Two Broken Toys
by CharlotteSometime
Summary: Bobby Goren meets a woman with whom he makes a real connection-but they are connected in more ways than one.
1. Chapter 1

"Two Broken Toys"

A Law and Order CI FanFic

Note: The characters related to L&O CI belong to Dick Wolf—I claim no copyright. Any other characters are of my own making.

Rating: PG-13

As Annie was coming in to the front door of her therapist's office, she hit a wall—a black, woolen wall of a coat that smelled like cologne she would later learn was Lauren's Polo Black. Her blue eyes followed the length of the wall up to the face, an act which caused her to crane her neck as she was only five-and-a-half feet tall and this man was huge... She was ready to mumble a " 'scuse me" when her breath was stolen by the most beautiful, intense brown eyes she had ever seen. She regained her ability to speak and softly said, "'scuse me, I'm very sorry," in her southern drawl, softened by years of living in other states.

"No, it's my fault; I wasn't watching where I was going." His crooked smile and curly hair only make his eyes more enticing. "I do that sometimes. Well, no, a lot of the time. Wait, you were going in, weren't you? I'm sorry; I'm keeping you from something." The big bear of a man stepped back and held the door, allowing her to enter.

"Nothing very important," she said, rolling her eyes, "just another $70 cup of coffee to talk about how I had a messed-up childhood and that's why I have commitment issues." She smiled sarcastically.

He chuckled. "Or how if you don't have something in your life to solve or fix then you don't have a life? Dr. Geisen, right?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I just came from there. Mandatory sessions."

"Mandatory. Should I not be talking to you right now? Are you some kind of former ax murderer or something?"

"Not exactly. I'm a detective. I catch the axe murderers."

"Wow. No wonder you're seeing a shrink. That shit would mess Mother Theresa up."

He laughed out loud this time. "You know, you're very witty."

"Yeah, a regular Dorothy Parker, that's me."

"OOOh and cultured. I'm liking you more all the time."

"Well, Maybe I'd like you if I knew your name, big cop guy."

"Goren, Bobby Goren." He reached for her hand and shook it firmly but softly. "And you? Miss funny Southern Belle?  
"Oh, I'm Annie Turner." She looked at her watch. "And I'm also late. Nice meeting you."

"You too," he said, smiling. "I'm sure we'll meet again."

She grinned. "You think so?"

"I hope so."

And with those words, she rushed into the building, leaving the scent of patchouli in the air and her words on his mind. Bobby smiled, descended the stairs, and headed to work.


	2. Two Broken Toys--Chapter Two

Two Broken Toys, Chapter 2

A Law and Order CI FanFiction

Note: The characters in Law and Order CI are the copyright of Dick Wolf; all others are of my imagination

The next time Bobby saw Annie was at a hot dog cart on a corner in the Village. She was with a friend, and they were laughing and chattering like two little birds, one not even waiting for the other to stop talking. He walked up and leaned over, whispering in her ear.

"Well, at least now I know you're not a vegan."

Annie closed her eyes and smiled. She knew immediately who it was—Bobby Goren, the big, gorgeous cop she met last week. She swallowed the bit e so she could talk. "Big guy cop. It's you again. And no, I'm not a vegan, just a part-time vegetarian." She smiled broadly.

He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and gently wiped the area below her lower lip. "Mustard." Truth is, Bobby had to find a reason to not seem creepy about staring at her full rosy lips. No lipstick and they were still amazing.

"Oh Bobby—meet my friend Wendy," Annie exclaimed, suddenly remembering her manners. "Bobby Goren, this is Wendy Stoner. Wendy, this is Bobby."

They shook hands and exchanged greetings; all the while Wendy wore a mischievous smile on her face, like a little girl who knows a secret.

"So nice to meet you, Bobby," Wendy said smiling, 'I've heard a lot about-"

WHOMP! Annie kicked her on the back of Wendy's ankle to shut her up.

"Ow! That hurt! Sorry for making small talk." Bobby smirked, and there was just a hint of blush on his cheek. Annie, however, looked like all the blood supply in her body had rushed to her face.

"Well, I gotta get back to work. See ya, Ann. Nice meeting you!" Wendy waved and walked to the left from the corner.

Annie looked at Bobby sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

"About what"

"That I talked to Wendy about you and that SHE CAN'T KEEP HER BIG MOUTH SHUT!" Annie yelled down thesidewalk. Wendy was about half a block away. She waved flirtatiously without even turning around.

"Why should you be sorry? It's nice to know you talked about me. Besides, I mentioned you to my partner a few times. Well, more than a few times." He smiled, and her embarrassment instantly went away. There was something about this big, strong man that made her feel safe.

"You don't have to go back to work, right away, do you?" Bobby asked hopefully.

"Nope. In fact, that's why I met Wendy here. She lives here in the Village and works at a boutique. It's my day off, so I took the subway to see her for a little while."

"How far away do you live, Annie?"

"Oh, I have a studio on the Upper West Side. "

"Can I give you a ride? I'm parked just a block away."

Annie scoffed. "There's no way you're parked anywhere in this neighborhood. It's ridiculous around here."

Bobby laughed and opened his coat. "it's ridiculous what a badge can do."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, why not?"

They made small talk on the way to the vehicle, mostly about her job in copy editing/graphic design for _SCRIPT_ , a brand-new magazine covering movies past and present, their stars, directors, etc.

"Needless to say, I'm crazy about movies," Annie exclaimed, rubbing her hands together gleefully, "especially the classics—the 30s, 40s, 50s—now that was the golden age of movies . The women always looked beautiful and wore beautiful clothes, the men were always sharply dressed, everybody smoked—but they knew how to smoke, you know what I mean?—the made the smoke like a character in the film—silky and dreamy. Most of the scripts were well-written and had great dialogue- God, I've got to shut up. I'm talking too much. "

"No," Bobby said, gesturing to the huge, black SUV parked at the curb. "I love to hear you talk. It's southern without being—what's the word?—stereotypical"

"That comes from living half my early life in Michigan, and a couple of years in Toledo, mixed with a lot of years in Tennessee. A southern mongrel mix. That's me!" She held out both sides of her blue-flowered dress and dark blue jack as though they were suspenders. The dress made her eyes bluer, and made her curly, auburn hair glisten in the sunlight

Bobby opened the passenger door for Annie, and to her it looked like a 50-foot climb into that seat. "Lord have mercy! Okay, here we go! "She hiked her dress up a bit with her left hand, giving a view of more leg which Bobby definitely appreciated, put her right foot on the step, grabbed the door with her right hand and slung up in the seat. "Whoo! That was kind of fun!"

Bobby shut the door and walked around to get in. "You did it. I'm impressed. And with no help from me."

"Honey, the only help you could have given me would be a big ol' shove on my butt, and we don't know each other well enough for that, "Annie laughed. Suddenly, she became very serious. "Oh gosh, were you working on something? Were you inspecting a body? Interrogating an axe murderer?"

"Actually, I had just finished asking questions on a case we're working on. I came out of the building and there you were just a few steps away."

"Kismet, darlin' it's Kismet"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "You don't believe in that stuff, do you?"

Annie shook her head, "No, I just love saying the word. Kismet, Kismet, Kismet." It's one of my favorite words I love to say.

"Really? Give me some others."

"Persephone, ostentatious, aurora borealis, moist, crème Brule, oh, it goes on and on.

Bobby couldn't stop watching her lips. He couldn't help it. God, he wanted to kiss this woman. Too soon, too soon, he kept telling himself. She called him honey. But don't all southern women do that? It probably meant nothing. God, she had good legs.

"Sorry, got of track. So what's going on? A murder? Is it a secret, or can you talk about it?" She had leaned over and was whispering in his ear. He fumbled with the keys, almost dropping them on the floorboard.

"Um, nothing to talk about, really. Just making sure a couple of alibis were solid."

"Oh, cool! Just like Sam Spade, or Sherlock Holmes! Now, just head out to the right and I'll show you where to drop me off. So what did the people need alibis for?"

Bobby replied,"Well, I work with the major case squad—we cover murders, major burglaries, fraud, and all sorts of things." He talked a little about what his job entailed. "This one happened to be a murder."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's all part of the job."

"Dealing with someone's death is always a major thing; but, I guess you have to toughen up or you'd lose your mind. Oh jeez, you go to therapy—I shouldn't have said that. Or am I allowed to because I go to therapy too? Anyway my cat Kitty Puss, he was run over when I was a little girl. I know you're thinking "Who would name their boy cat kitty Puss? Well, when I was little someone told me boy cats would kill you in your sleep, and the cat wandered up in the yard and my mama didn't have the heart to tell me he was a he so I thought he was a girl and named him Kitty Puss. I was gonna name him Pussarella and my mama talked me out of it. Can you imagine? The poor cat would have to have therapy itself. Anyway, when he died I cried and cried forever. Then there was my mama…" Annie became quiet and looked out the side window.

"I lost my mom too, and my brother," Bobby said softly.

"Oh, Bobby I'm so sorry." For some reason, this apology from this almost-stranger of a woman touched him more than any he had received after the death of his mother and brother. He could tell she meant it. He FELT that she meant it.

Before he knew it he was reaching over and taking her hand. She did not stop him, and ran her thumb along the edge of his finger, Bobby whispered, "It's really rough, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I felt like I was never going to learn to be happy again."

"Yeah, well, I still haven't learned. Don't think I've ever known."

"Oh dear Bobby, you will be happy one day—it just takes time. Here's me. This one with the red door."

He pulled to the side, turned on the emergency flashers, and turned to meet her gaze. "Can I see you again?"

"You mean like a date?"

"Yes, like a date." He chuckled at her somewhat child-like energy.

"Sure. When is good for you?"

"Is Saturday okay?" Bobby asked cautiously, "or do you have plans?"

"Honey, if I had them, I'd break them." Damn, Annie thought to herself, nothing like sounding too eager, girl. Truth was, she was using every ounce of self-control she had to not come across to his side of the seat- she wanted to hug him, run her fingers through his hair, kiss him, chew on that lower lip…there was no doubt, The Lord was having a good day when he made Bobby Goren.

"Great! Pick you up at eight?"

"Sounds wonderful," Annie smiled. She took a pen off the dashboard, reached for his left hand, and wrote her number on his palm. "In case you have a situation and need to cancel."

Bobby got out. "Let me walk you to the door." He came around and opened her door. She turned her knees out, trying to make a lady-like exit; she tried to slip down gracefully like a doe. Well, slip down she did—almost flat on her butt, if Bobby hadn't caught her. Annie wound up with her arms around his neck, and his arms were around her waist. Annie reached up and kissed Bobby on the cheek. "Thank you," Annie murmured, her lips still nearhis cheek. He turned and brushed his lips against hers and whispered, "You're welcome." She took his hand and led him up the steps to the door, leaving him on the next-to-the top step. She let go of his hand, turned to unlock her door, turned back and gave a little wave. In a heartbeat she was gone.

Bobby sighed. It was going to be a long time until Saturday.


	3. Two Broken Toys--Chapter 3

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 3

A Law & Order CI Fanfiction

Note: All L&O CI characters are the copyright of Dick Wolf; all other characters are of my own imagination

Bobby stood nervously, trying to gain the courage to knock on Annie's door. He had dressed carefully tonight—black slacks and shirt, grey striped tie and black sports jacket.

Get hold of yourself, damn it—he thought anxiously—what's the big deal? You work with murderers, thieves, all sorts of criminals. What harm is a little five-foot something woman going to do?

A lot, he thought as he knocked on the door…a whole lot.

"Hold on Bobby! I'll be right there!" He loved how her "on" sounded like "awn" and she made "there" a two-syllable word. Jeez, it drove him crazy.

He briefly saw the flash of an eye in the peephole, and then heard the rattle of chains and the thud of deadbolts. Finally, the door opened. "Hi, come on in—I've just gotta powder my nose."

When he saw her, it was a feeling more than reaction to her physical beauty, which he couldn't deny if he wanted to. Her auburn, shoulder-length curls framed her face perfectly, and with makeup her skin was flawless, with huge blue eyes. He had been attracted to her before he'd seen her "made-up," but he never expected this transformation. She was wearing an emerald green silk shirt, a black short skirt, sheer black hose and black high heeled pumps. Yeah, she was beautiful, but there was something warm about her, real about her, that drew Bobby to her like waves to the shore.

"You look beautiful," he said, then stammering, "um, nice place."

It was small, one room, separate bath, kitchen/dining on the right, living/sleeping on the left. A pull-out futon served as a bed, but most of the time Annie just slept on it like a couch. Fine art prints and music posters covered the walls: Gustav Klimt, Kandinsky, Miles Davis, the Beatles, Bob Marley, Chet Baker, and Ella Fitzgerald.

"Thanks. It's small and dumpy, but then again it is small and dumpy." Annie smiled. "Ready?"

"Sure." He helped her with her coat, smelling her hair as he did so. It smelled like mangoes. He still had his hands resting on her shoulder. "How about Italian? I know a little place that makes a great veal parmagiana. I go there all the time."

"Mmmmmm…sounds wonderful." If he had said McDonald's, she would have said the same thing; she didn't care where they went.

That little "Mmmmmm" Annie made gave Bobby goosebumps. All he could do was picture her in bed, head thrown back, making that same noise. What the hell was wrong with him? Shake it off, man; first date, first date, first date.

They left the apartment and descended the stairs where a black sedan was waiting. "Nice. Yours, or company car?"

"Company car. One of the few perks of being a cop. "He walked her around to the door, opened it, and watched appreciatively as she slid onto the leather seat. "Much more graceful, Miss Turner."

"That's because I'm not climbing a dang embankment to get in, Mr. Goren," she laughed.

They drove on, making small talk about their days, Bobby of course not giving details about his case, just how things went. Annie talked excitedly about a piece she was doing the graphics for covering all the film treatments of _The Great Gatsby_. "I LOVE Art Deco and I can't wait to get started. Everyone usually does black and white or black and gold, but I'm thinking midnight blue and silver. What do you think?"

"I think you're even more beautiful when you get passionate about something." He pulled in to a parking area and turned off the car. "Now, andiamo a mangiare, no?" (Now, let's eat, no?)

"Si, sto mo rendo di fame! Io capisco Italiano, e Dio parlo un po, ma, no molto benne. Hablo Español mucho mejor." (Yes I'm starving! I understand Italian, and I speak a little, but not very well. I speak Spanish much better.)

Damn, woman, you never cease to surprise me."

Hang on," Annie laughed, "the ride's just started."

As they walked around to the front of the restaurant, Annie appreciated the fact that it looked like a nice, cozy little "mom and pop" place. Those kinds were usually the best.

Bobby held the door for her and kept his left hand on the small of her back as they walked in. Even though the jacket, she swore it was warmer where his hand was touching her. Oh God, Annie thought, get over yourself. You're being silly.

When they walked in the place, you would have thought Bobby lived there. Everyone—from the hostess to the busboys to the chef—greeted him like an old friend. The hostess even said, "your table is ready, Bobby."

"Your table? I only thought celebrities and mafia guys had their own tables at Italian places."

"Ha! No, if you come to a place as much as I do here, they get to know you and your eccentricities."

"Oh, you have eccentricities, do you Bobby?"

"You have no idea."

The server promptly brought a good bottle of Chianti and two glasses. He poured two glasses for them and turned to Bobby, "the usual?"

"Yes Mark, thank you."

Mark turned to Annie. "Do you need a few minutes to decide?"

"No, I'll have the same."

"Very well; coming right up."

"So," Annie said, reaching across the table for Bobby's hand, "Why this place? What makes it so special?"

"Well, " he said softly, focusing on her fingers and not looking up, "it's quiet, not too crowded, the food is good, it's cozy, and nobody bothers me." He ran his thumb along the side of her middle finger. "You write with your pen between your index finger and your middle finger. That's unusual. You have a callous on your middle finger."

"Oh yes, my teachers tried and tried to get me to write the other way, but I just couldn't. It just felt more comfortable my way. Wait, are you analyzing me?"

"No! Okay, maybe a little. Sorry, it's just part of my nature, a habit because of the job. Take your pick."

"So what have you come up with so far?

"Well, you have the callus, as I said before, which comes from your work in editing and design, maybe writing on your own time. And you have a scar from a burn on your left arm. I noticed it the other day."

"How can you even see that? It happened when I was three years old and grew back on its own!"

Bobby took her other hand, undid the button on the cuff of her blouse, and slid the shirt up to her elbow. At that moment, there was no way to tell whose heart was beating faster. "If you look right here," he took his finger and traced the faintest of an oval shape on her arm, "you'll see where the skin is just a tiny bit lighter in color than the rest. That's where the burn happened."

"Wow," she whispered, "great observation. It's true; my stepfather pushed me into a coal oil stove and it burned my arm" Her blue eyes saddened with the memory for just a moment, then she brightened. "I have a chicken pox scar—wanna find it too?" she chuckled. "So, give me some personality stuff. Pick my brain."

"Well," Bobby replied, looking intently into her eyes and trying not to think about where the chicken pox scar might be, "I think you are very intelligent, with a very quick sense of humor that is very sexy, but I think you sometimes use it as a defense mechanism because you still have scars from a lousy childhood and a fear of commitment."

"Okay," Annie said, her eyes wide, "now you're getting spooky. How did you know that childhood and commitment stuff?"

Bobby gave her a crooked grin, "Oh that was easy. You said your stepfather pushed you into a hot stove. Oh, and told me about that stuff the day we met."

She playfully smacked his hand, laughing, "you rascal. I can't believe you remembered that." She reached back and buttoned the cuff on her blouse just as their meals came to the table.

The food was delicious, and over their meal they talked about so many things—Annie's and Bobby's childhoods, their mothers, things they had in common like music and books—you name it. Bobby kept thinking to himself, "I can't believe I'm telling this stranger these things," but she didn't seem like a stranger; she seemed like a friend. A beautiful, funny, empathic, breath-of-fresh-air friend that he had needed for so, so long.

In fact, they talked until time for the place to close. Bobby apologized to the owner s as he went to pay the bill. Mark, the server, came over to Annie and whispered, "For what it's worth, you're the first woman he's brought here in all these years."

Annie grinned. The first one, huh? A rush of electrical excitement rushed though her body. That was the sweetest thing she ever heard.

Once again, Bobby helped her with her coat and they walked out into the cool September air. After he let her in the car and buckled himself in, Bobby asked, "Is there anywhere else you'd like to go ? I'm up for anything."

"I'd love to Bobby," Annie said with a little pout in her lip, "But I've got to go to-"

Before she knew it, Bobby had taken her face in his hands and kissed her softly, giving her lower lip its own soft little kiss."

"I'm sorry, " Bobby breathed, "I couldn't help myself." He gently let go of her face, his fingers tangled softly in her curls as he pulled away.

"It's okay," she whispered, "It was nice."

"Um, I think you were about to say you had to get to work in the morning."

"Yeah. Work."

"Got it. Wait. On a Sunday?"

Annie sighed. "Yep. Major deadline. One of the editors scrapped a whole spread for next month, so we're in overdrive to fix it. I'd have had to work tonight but I told them I was sick." She feigned a little cough and giggled.

Bobby laughed, pulled out and headed toward Annie's place. Neither really talked, but it wasn't an awkward silence; it was as though both were processing what had happened. They made the occasional small talk about things they saw on the street on the way to her place.

Bobby pulled up and put on the emergency flashers. "Let me walk you to the door."

He took her hand and led her out of the car. They walked hand-in-hand up the steps to Annie's place.

"I had a great time," Bobby said, "Can I see you again?"

"I'd love that," Annie said softly. She moved slowly so she was facing him, reached her arms up around his neck, and gently pulled his lips down to hers. Her kiss was soft, warm, with just the slightest bite on his lower lip to finish it off. "Call me."

Bobby Goren stole one more little kiss before whispering, "I will, beautiful."

Annie turned and unlocked her door, and Bobby gave her a little wave as she went in.

He turned and went down the steps, taking them two at a time. He got into the sedan and drove home. All the while, he traced his thumb across his lower lip, remembering Annie's kiss.


	4. Tho Broken Toys--Chapter 4

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 4

A Law & Order CI Fanfiction

Note: All L&O CI Characters are the copyright of Dick Wolf—the others are of my imagination

When Alex Eames walked in to the squad room with her morning coffee, she swore she heard someone whistling. She had to be hearing things, or it was a radio, because she and Goren were always the first ones at work, the patrolmen were down the hall being briefed, and there's no way—

But there he was-white shirt, black tie, sleeves rolled to the elbows-doing paperwork and whistling a spritely little tune as he did so. She blinked her sleepy eyes a few times, not believing what she was experiencing.

"Who are you and what have you done with my partner?" she said cautiously.

"Why—what?—oh, the whistling—yeah it's me." He walked toward the copy machine and tapped her playfully on the back with the papers in his hand.

Alex's gaze narrowed. "Okay, what's—oh, it's that woman, isn't it? The one you've been seeing for the last week or so." She smiled, glad to see this new side of her partner.

"I'm not saying yes, and I'm not saying no," Goren turned and grinned playfully.

"Mm-hm. So when do I get to meet this goddess?"

"Never. Well, at least not until you get to be my best man."

"Did you just mention something marriage-related? I'm in shock. And it's best woman, by the way."

"Whatever. Anyway, I don't want her to be part of this," he said, sweeping his arm across the squad room. "Not until it's absolutely necessary."

"Well, you've been mentioning her, but you've been pretty cryptic. All I know is her name is Annie, she's southern, and she words for a magazine. What does she even look like?"

Goren took out his phone, went through his photos, and found one of Annie he had taken in Central Park one afternoon She was wearing a pale yellow cable-knit sweater, and her smile reflected her affection for the photographer.

"Very pretty," Eames said smiling. "Beautiful eyes."

"You have no idea. I look into them and their so blue I could drown in them, I swear to God."

"Why Goren, how positively romantic of you," Eames smiled, making a kissy-face across the desk from him. He laughed, and responded in kind.

"I like this new you. It suits you. So what's this Annie's last name?"

"Oh no," Goren replied, shaking his index finger at his partner. "No way. At the least you'll run a background check on her; at the most you'll pay her a visit."

"Oh come on," Eames said, rolling her eyes, "you can't blame me for being curious, and a little bit cautious; we don't want another Nichole Wallace on our hands."

"Yeah, well, curiosity killed the cat." She could tell by his grim expression she had overstepped. She backpedaled a bit.

"But cats have nine lives."

He grinned again. "That's a myth."

"So is this girl, I'm beginning to think."

"Oh no, Eames," Goren said with this far-off look in his eye, "she's very, very real."

"So," Eames said, sipping her coffee, "any leads on last night's shooting?"

"No, and both alibis checked out. The security guard's gun didn't match the bullet, plus he was on the surveillance camera. The delivery guy turned in his visitor's badge fifteen minutes before the shooting. What I can't figure out is who would want this mail-boy kid dead. He seemed to be a good employee, had friends, and didn't piss off anyone—at least on the job. But one thing keeps bugging me. Did you notice how "moved' so many of the executives were concerned about this kid's death? Why were wew called in in the first place? Odd, don't you think?"

Eames looked up from her work. "The CEO of Unicorp is an old frat buddy of the Commissioner's.'

Goren studied on this, pacing back and forth; hand on the back of his neck. "But how many executives in a major corporation know the name of the mail boy? Why bother? They are almost the bottom of the totem pole as far as executives are concerned. Why such concern? And why this kid?"

Eames shrugged. "Maybe he was so good at his job he was irreplaceable."

Suddenly, Goren stopped pacing. When Eames heard his shoes stop shuffling across the floor, she said, "What is it? What did I say?" God knows she'd been around enough to know when the synapses in Goren's head went into overdrive.

"Anybody who can read can be trained to deliver mail," Goren explained, left hand in his pocket, right hand at his temple, "but what if this guy was irreplaceable for-for delivering something else—something that executive's want, but don't want to-to bother to go get?"

Eames nodded. "Drugs."

Goren started talking faster, "maybe-maybe this kid knew someone-someone –-a, a supplier-and he was the connection for the execs in this company. The kid delivers packages, he, he marks certain ones "Personal-only to be opened by addressee." The guy goes on his rounds, the bosses get their stuff, no problem. Until now—now there's a problem. Their delivery boy is dead."

Eames asked, "But how would they pay for the drugs?"

"I haven't figured that out yet. I may be way off track, anyway. But this theory is the only thing that makes sense so far. We found him on the roof of the building, bullet to the back of the head, clean kill, very professional. He had no money, no woman in his life, no priors, nothing. I think it's just a good kid who got talked into a bad situation. Someone wanted him out, didn't want him to talk, thought he was on the take, something. I don't know. It's not much, but at least now we have a shred to go on."

Eames sighed. "I know. Maybe his family, his friends, someone will able to give us something."

"Let's go talk to the family first, then back to the office building this afternoon," Goren said, grabbing his suit jacket. "I have a feeling we're going to run into some pretty irritated executives by then."


	5. Chapter 5

Broken Toys—Chapter 5

A Law & Order CI Fanfiction

Note: all L&O CI characters are the copyright of Dick Wolf; all others are of my imagination.

Bobby found himself driving around and around the block where Annie lived the next Sunday morning. Jesus, Goren, you've turned into a stalker. But he knew that wasn't it. There was something about Sundays, something cold and dark, even in the summer that Bobby just couldn't shake. He needed her to help take it away. But God, what a burden to put on another human being. She didn't deserve that.

But he needed her. He needed to talk to her, to see her smile. He needed her kiss, her arms around him. That was all there had been between them so far, but that was enough. Just being around her made him feel at ease, younger, like a kid with a crush. He didn't want that feeling to go away, yet he had questions about where he and Annie were going.

Bobby had been in a few relationships, but usually work got in the way. Maybe that was why he didn't even want her to meet Eames just yet…he chided himself for being so different with Annie than with other women. Usually he was confident, self-assured, and just like he was at work. But this was different, very different. His mom always told him "you know you've met The One when they make your life feel better." Well, that was true. Used to, the only reason he had for getting up in the morning was work; now he had two reasons.

Not that he didn't have big hesitations at first. Did he have time for her? What was the reason she was in therapy? She seemed so young. At first he was afraid he was too old for her; turns out, Annie was in her mid-thirties. Her sense of wonder and love of laughter just made her seem younger. Most of the women he had dated wanted to talk about getting married (or their exes) having kids, how they hate their jobs, etc.

Damn it, just do it," he muttered to himself, "just go see her." and drove around until he found a parking space. He pulled the collar of his coat up against the chill of the October wind and started the two-block walk to Annie's.

Finally, he was at her door. He made a mental note to talk to the super about getting a buzzer system put in so it would be safer. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and knocked on Annie's door.

"Who is it?" Bobby could hear Charlie Parker playing softly in the background.

"It's me."

The chains began to rattle and the locks began to tumble. There she stood, hair tousled, dressed in an oversized man's white shirt, sleeves to the elbows, one foot resting on top of the other, bright pink toenails winking at him. "Hey, you," she said softly.

Bobby's knees got a little weak, and for a few seconds he was incapable of coherent speech. "Um...it's me." God, she reminded him of a ripe nectarine—he could eat her alive at that moment.

"Yes, darlin', I know. You said that, and I can see it's you." Annie pulled his coat until he was closer, then reached inside his coat and wrapped her arms around him. She started to pull his face down to hers then suddenly stopped. "Wait a minute! I've got a better idea." She took his coat off, hung it on the coat rack, took his huge, roughened hand in hers, and led him to one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Then she proceeded to sit on his lap, facing him, with her arms gently laced around his neck.

"Now, see?" Annie said laughing. "No more strain on your neck. By the way, you're a bad boy for not calling first. Look at this place! Look at me! I have bed head! All I've done is brush my teeth and read the—"

Bobby put his lips close to hers and whispered, "Will you shut up? You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, made-up, bed-head, I don't care-"

"Sunday paper." Annie said, "You didn't let me finish my sentence.

"Well, before you start another one—"Bobby leaned in and kissed her deeply, slowly, as if the world would end if he stopped. She ran her hands through his hair, felt the roughness of his beard as he kissed her neck, the part of her shoulder peeking out from the shirt. Both of them were breathing heavily and their hearts were quickening. Bobby took a finger and raised her chin, looking into her eyes.

"Are you sure about this? Because I need to know."

"Bobby," Annie said as her lips were tracing over to whisper in his ear, "What do you mean?"

He leaned his head back and took her chin so they were eye-to-eye. "I'm…Annie…you already know I'm not an ordinary guy. I've been hurt. I've got scars, physical, mental. I'll never be the man you deserve. Look at you, you're everything a man could want in a woman—"

She chuckled. "Now that's a matter of opinion."

"Yeah, well, it's my opinion. I work with people who do things that would twist your mind in knots—it's one of the things that's wrong with me."

"But you can talk to me about it—"

"NO I CAN'T! THAT'S JUST IT! How could I burden someone I love with the horrors that I deal with every day?"

"Bobby," Annie said, unbuttoning his shirt, the word "love" still reverberating in her ears, "there are women who live in perfect houses with husbands with perfectly normal jobs, and they are miserable. It's not what you do, it's supporting each other. And believe it or not you big, beautiful man, I can support way more than you. Besides, you're putting the cart before the horse. You may get tired of me. This may go nowhere. She kissed him gently,

"Now," Annie said softly, "Ask me again."

Bobby swallowed and whispered, "Are you sure about this?"

She reached for her shirt, undoing all the buttons left on the front. It fell to the floor, along with Annie's inhibitions.

He picked her up, kissing her as he did so. She wrapped her hands around his neck and her legs around his waist. He carried her to the fold-out which was covered with soft sheets and a blanket, as Annie loved sleeping in on Sundays.

Bobby's shoes, his shirt, his jeans, everything Annie removed slowly and lovingly—covering Bobby with kisses as she did so. It had been so long that Bobby thought he might lose his mind. Finally, they were entwined together, and what they had both been dreaming of began.

The rest of the day and night became something they both needed so desperately—skin on sheets, skin on skin, lips on skin, soft moans and whispers in the dark. Bobby and Annie fell in love that Sunday, and they also began to heal, like two broken toys someone has taken the time to start mending.

Sundays were never going to be the same for Bobby again.


	6. Chapter 6 Two Broken Toys

Two Broken Toys

Chapter 6

A Law & Order CI Fanfiction

Note: All characters of Law & Order CI are the copyright of Dick Wolf. All others are of my imagination.

Bobby awoke slowly, stretching the entire length of his body, listening to his bones crack. God, I'm getting old, he thought.

He felt something soft draped across his left arm, something soft and silky. Annie's hair was flowing across his arm as her head lay upon the pillow. He smiled and rolled over so their bodies fit together (spooning—Bobby thought—I haven't spooned in a million years). He whispered in her ear, "Good morning, beautiful."

Annie snuggled his arm up closer, "Mmmm, good morning. What time is it?"

Bobby looked at his watch, "Almost six."

"Oh! Thank God you woke me up! I've gotta get to work." She got up out of bed, Bobby admiring her round, firm bottom as she bent down to put on the white shirt.

"Annie, I have to ask something," Bobby said cautiously, "Whose shirt is that?"

"Mine." She was busily putting on the kettle for the French-press coffee

"No, I mean who gave it to you?"

She came back to the foldout, straddled Bobby with the shirt open, leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Okay, I confess….his name was Will. " She kissed him deeply, and then planted a peck on his nose. "Good Will, you big doofus." She grabbed his hands, put them up over his head, and began to softly bite him on the chest. "We're a jealous one, aren't we?"

Bobby smiled, "no, just curious. It's only right for a man to know that the shirt he took off the woman he loves belonged to another man or not." Both their eyes got very big, as if they both couldn't believe he said it.

"Did you say "love," Bobby?

She let go and he turned her on her back, kissing away the front of her shirt before making his way up to her lips. "Yes. I love you, Annie. I've never met a woman like you, I've never been more attracted to a woman than I am to you, and everything about you drives me crazy, in a good way. I love you.

Annie kissed him on the neck, the cheeks, the eyelids, the forehead, finally the face. "I love you too. I knew there was something about you the minute I met you, but I had no idea I could love you this much. Now I'd love to stay in bed all day and make love and talk about this, but I have to get to work." She got up and went over to the stove.

Bobby frowned. "Me too. Luckily I keep an extra suit at work."

"Wow. I've never known a man with so many suits. Where I come from, men have 1 suit—for weddings and funerals. She poured the water in the coffee. Should be ready in about five or so."

Annie took off to the bath, which had a giant claw foot tub and a shower curtain ring around it. She put up her hair with two chopsticks, set the temp of the water, and stepped in. In a couple of minutes, it felt like someone was watching her. He was. There stood Bobby, coffee in hand, in his boxers, watching her shower through a gap in the shower curtain with a big smile on his face.

AAAHHH! Annie laughed after she caught her breath. What the hell! You scared me to death!"

"Sorry," he grinned, "I was bored, so I thought I'd enjoy the view. Coffee?"

"Yes, please." She took the cup from his hand while in the shower and drank deeply. She was going to need all the caffeine she could get. She was exhausted—satiated, but exhausted. She stepped out and reached for a towel.

"Here," Bobby said, "come here." He took a soft, fluffy maroon towel and gently dried her back, her bottom, and the back of her legs. "You deserve to be pampered."

"Oh, a girl could get used to this," Annie sighed as he dried each arm and down her sides. She turned around and he kissed her deeply again.

"Bobby," Annie protested, "I haven't brushed my teeth yet."

He grinned as he kissed her, "That's okay—I know where that mouth has been." He chuckled at his own bawdy humor.

She couldn't help but laugh as well. He began drying her neck, her shoulders, pulling the chopsticks from her hair and dropping them to the floor. She shook her hair out, the dampness making it even curlier. This made Bobby moan softly. He began to dry her breasts, taking more time than was necessary, but Annie trembled and whispered incoherently. Bobby dried her stomach and her legs, which were becoming weak in anticipation. Down on his knees, Bobby took Annie to the place she had been over and over the night before.

Finally, Bobby stood up, took her face in his hands and kissed her intensely, holding her tight. "I love you. You go get ready; I'll clean the coffee off the floor."

Then and only then did Annie come to her senses and see the puddle of coffee she had poured on the floor while Bobby was making love to her. She made a mental note to figure a way to unexpectedly return the favor.


	7. Two Broken Toys--Chapter 7

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 7

A Law & Order CI Fanfiction

Note: All Law & Order CI characters are the copyright of Dick Wolf. All others are of my imagination.

Goren dropped Annie off at work with a kiss and a promise to be back at her place that evening. She was going to cook for him—fried chicken, biscuits, mashed potatoes, gravy—the whole nine yards. He'd get off much later than her so she'd have plenty of time.

"Love you. Have a good day," Bobby said as she got out of the car. She was almost skipping to the building, curls bouncing, that lucious rump shaking back and forth. Oh yeah, Bobby thought, what's the old saying? "I hate to see her leave, but I love to watch her go."

He rushed to the precinct building, headed to the locker room, took a quick shower; starting putting on the extra suit he had in his locker. Detective Mike Logan walked and headed to one of the urinals. "Hey Goren."

"Hey."

Logan finished and was washing his hands when he stopped and looked at Goren's reflection in the mirror. "Well by God, Goren got laid. It's about damn time. I was beginning to think we were going to have to lock you and Eames in a room for a couple of days and not let you out until…"

"SHUT UP!" Goren spouted off, more than a little pissed at Logan's digging in his business. "Look, I was out drinking, I slept on my friend's pull-out couch, and I had no other clothes with me, okay?"

Logan looked downcast. "Yeah, that's probably what happened. Who and I kidding? But we should go with my story; it's better," he chuckled, patting Goren on the back as he was putting on his suit jacket.

When Goren reached his desk, there was coffee already waiting courtesy of Eames. As he took a sip, he smiled as he remembered the coffee earlier this morning, Annie's legs trembling and her lower body bucking closer to his face as she tried not to scream. Damn, now he'd gotten himself all stirred up again.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Eames said, smiling. "How was your—oh my God, Goren, you got laid!" she exclaimed, putting her hand over her mouth, hoping she hadn't been too loud. She whispered loudly, "You did, didn't you?"

Goren was looking down at his paperwork. Slowly, without raising his head, he raised his eyes to her, and gave the most impish grin she had ever seen.

"Oh my God! Annie?" Eames asked excitedly.

"Of course Annie, you dork," Goren said, throwing a paper wad at her. "Who else?"

"Oh, I don't know," grinned Eames, "I thought you might have run into your dream woman, Heidi Klum."

"Well, she's not" Goren lowered his voice to a whisper, "she's not my dream woman anymore." He put his hands behind his head and leaned back, "Heidi has been replaced. Anyway, what about the mail boy case? Anything new?" He became serious and leaned his elbows on the desk, hands folded.

"Yeah, I was going to tell you, but that was before I went into shock over, well, you know. They had been tarring the roof and the weekend detective found a partial print on the tar. We got a match, a Darryl Miller. We traced him to his mother's house in Brooklyn. The second the patrolmen stormed Mom's house, we found Darryl and a guy named Jimmy Escojando. Jimmy was living in Mom's basement. Nothing major on either of their records—petty theft, possession with intent to sell. Here's the thing—BOTH are copping to the shooting, which is impossible. One gun, one bullet, and they both say they were the shooter."

Goren looked puzzled, putting his fingertips together and placing them to his mouth, almost as if in prayer. "Strange," he said, "any other time they would both roll over on each other, not cop to the same crime, when it's obvious only one of them did it. We're going to have to take a look at that print that we missed on the tar in the roof, check its location in proximity to the body. Let's go."

Eames smiled. "On the way, you could tell me about your weekend."

"No."

"Why not? I'm your partner for Chrissake."

"Goren turned and looked at her seriously. "A because it's none of your business, B because you're a girl, and C because it's none of your business."

Eames sighed. "You're no fun at all."

"Sure I am. I'm as fun as a monkey in a diaper. But I'm not telling you about Annie."

Eames laughed and questioned, "A monkey in a diaper?"

Goren looked at her and grinned. "Yeah. You ever seen a monkey in a diaper? They're freaking hilarious."

They climbed into the SUV and headed back to UNICORP.


	8. Chapter 8

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 8

A Law & Order CI Fanfiction

Note: All characters of Law U Order CI are the copyright of Dick Wolf; all others are of my imagination

The trip to the roof of UNICORP was productive for Goren and Eames. It was easy to see why they both had missed the partial fingerprint on the tar of the roof; it was right on the edge of a puddle near a chimney. Goren looked from the print to the outline of where the body was found.

"Miller didn't kill the kid,' Goren speculated. "The way the print is turned, he was facing the entrance of the roof. He-he was the lookout. Escojando was the shooter. Why doesn't Darryl go ahead and let Jimmy take the fall?"

Eames turned her face against the cold wind, made even colder by the altitude. "Let's go talk to them and see."

A call to the squad room had both Darryl Miller and Jimmy Escojando in separate interrogation rooms. They had the story on Jimmy—Darryl was the one that didn't make sense. Goren stepped into the interrogation room as Eames stood behind the one-way mirror.

"So Darryl," Goren begins, "I've heard that you confessed to killing Fred Ellis. I'd like to ask you a few questions about the shooting. Who was with you on the roof the night of the shooting?"

Darryl, eyes piercing between strands of greasy blond hair, looked up and said, "Just me and Jimmy. That's it. You know that already. How many times do I have to answer these fucking questions?"

"Until I decide you can stop," Goren said quietly, leaning across the table and staring into Darryl's eyes. "Now, you say you're the one who killed Ellis. What was your beef with him? Because you've really gotta piss a guy off to make him kneel to the ground and put a bullet in the back of his brain." As he was talking, Goren had walked around the table, made a gun with his right hand, and put the "barrel" on Darryl's head at the same place where Ellis had been shot. "Did it feel good? Did it right the wrong? Did you enjoy watching his brains splatter all over the roof? Too bad the tarring people hadn't gotten too far, or your handiwork would have become part of the building forever. Is that what you wanted? IS IT?" Goren slammed the table with his fist right in front of Darryl. "You got your revenge, but you know what else you've gotten? Life in prison, death row, who knows? Maybe time off for good behavior. But until then, you wanna be somebody's bitch? They'll eat you alive in there!'

Suddenly, tears welled up in Darryl's eyes, and the tough guy façade was gone. He put his head down on his folded arms, sobbing, "I didn't do it, I didn't, I didn't shoot him, I swear to God. I was supposed to take the heat for it, but I can't, man, I can't."

Goren put a hand on Darryl's shoulder. "Who did it, Darryl?"

"It was Jimmy. I was the lookout to make sure security didn't come out on the roof."

"How did you get out of the building without tripping the alarms?"

"The dude, Ellis, we had his security card. We just swiped our way out."

Goren sat down opposite of Miller. "But what I still don't understand is why you tried to take the blame for the murder?"

Darryl sat with his hands over his eyes. "I can't talk about it. I won't talk about it."

Goren got down at eye-level with Darryl, who peeked between his fingers. "Well, let's talk about accessory to murder. You don't die for it, but you can go to Riker's for a long, long time. Unless…"

"I can't. I won't."

Goren ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "I'll be back."

He left the room, Eames waiting on the other side. "Well, we know the loyalty isn't to Jimmy; he turned on him in a heartbeat when you talked about going to jail. "

"That's the thing. Jimmy shot Ellis, but they both wanted to be the one to take the credit, the-the glory of bringing down the traitor. There's someone they're working for," Goren stated, "Someone they're more afraid of than anyone at Riker's."

Just as Goren walked back into the interrogation room, he was followed by Darryl's attorney, Luvell Church, a well-known public defender who sat next to Darryl, leaned over, and whispered in his ear.

"I have advised my client to exercise his 5th amendment rights until some sort of agreement can be reached."

Goren scoffed. "What does he have to offer? We already know Escojando did it."

Church whispered for a moment with Darryl, and then answered, "The details of the shooting, the nature of Fred Ellis' criminal conduct at UNICORP, the man he and Escojando work for and where to find him. In return, Mr. Miller wants immunity, and to be placed with his mother in the witness protection program."

Goren shook his head slightly. "I can't go to the DA without something. Come on."

Client and Attorney whispered together again. "The boss is in Lenox Hill," Church said, "now can we get on with this?"

Goren went to the door. "I'll see what I can do."

He stepped behind the glass again and dialed DA Carver's office. "Nice neighborhood for a drug kingpin," Eames noted, "he must really be keeping things under wraps to go unnoticed."

"Yeah, well, he has everyone else doing the work for him somewhere else, no doubt." He was interrupted when the DA's office answered. "Yes, hi, Detective Goren for DA Carver, please."

It didn't take much convincing by Goren to settle the deal. The DA's office promised to put the paperwork into motion immediately.

Goren went back into the room, Eames trailing him. "Mr. Church, this is my partner Detective Eames, Darryl, you remember Detective Eames?"

"Yeah, I remembered she knocked my ass to the concrete." Darryl chuckled.

"Now," Goren pushed a recorder in front of Darryl, pushed record, and said, "October 10, 7 p.m. Interview with Darryl Miller, conducted by Detective Robert Goren, in the presence of my partner, Detective Alex Eames, and Mr. Miller's attorney, Luvell Church. I want you to tell me to start from the beginning. Who are you working for?"

Darryl looked down at the table. "His name is Ricky Stanton. He lives out in Lenox Hill." He gave the address of the building.

"And how were you employed by Ricky Stanton?" Goren asked.

Darryl leaned forward, as if eager to get it all off of his chest now that he had begun. "Jimmy Escojando and I were sort of his 'quality control' guys. We made sure that everybody was doing their job, not taking a cut they didn't deserve, or ratting Ricky out. We were his two top men," Darryl said, with more than a little pride.

"So," Goren said, "That's the reason you both tried to take credit for the shooting. You both wanted to be top man."

"Yeah, but it ain't worth going to jail and all that shit," Jimmy exclaimed.

"Now," what was Ricky's business?"

Suddenly, Darryl looked very serious. "Well, Ricky knew that there were a lot of guys in corporations, you know, the big wigs, who with all the hours they were working and shit pretty much ran on coke during the day and sleeping pills and booze at night. They can get the booze from the liquor store, the sleeping pills from their doc, but where they gonna get the coke? So we solved the problem—we brought it to them."

"Why didn't any of the non-users turn Ellis in to the authorities?"

"Hell, you're a cop—you know who's coked up and who's not." He continued, "So Ellis would leave them a sample—next thing you know they're asking for more. We ask for just enough to make Ricky a good profit."

"That's what I don't get," Goren asked, "how was the money exchanged?"

"Interoffice mail," Darryl said. "You address the coke to the executive, mark it "'Confidential,' that way they only open it, and they send one just like it with the money back to Ellis. Simple."

Goren smiled. Just as he thought. "Thank you, Darryl. Now, when Stanton is apprehended and brought to trial, we will follow up on our end of the bargain. Until then, we will keep you somewhere safe."

"Hey Detective, you won't tell Jimmy I told, will you?" Darryl looked worried.

"I don't think he will, but I sure won't bring it up." Goren motioned to two patrolmen, "Come on guys; let's get him out of here."


	9. Chapter 9

Two Broken Toys

Chapter 9

A Law & Order CI Fanfiction

Note: The characters from Law & Order CI are the copyright of Dick Wolf. All others are of my imagination.

It was about nine o'clock that evening. Goren was sitting with Eames in the SUV across the street from Ricky Stanton's apartment building in Lenox Hill. They ran his record and found several convictions for possession with intent to sell, assault with intent to kill, grand theft auto, just about everything short of murder, including quite a successful career as a pimp.

"Too bad," Eames said, "He's actually a good-looking guy. If he had taken the right path, I'd have dated him."

Goren chucked. "You need a date."

"You're telling me. No, actually I just need these guys to come and relieve us so I can go home, eat, and crash."

"Oh, shit," Goren said suddenly, "I've gotta call Annie. I'm late." He dialed her number, and when she picked it up, Goren was treated to a breathy "Hi Baby."

"Hey, you," he said sexily into the phone. Eames had to bite her finger so she wouldn't laugh, and stomped the floorboard of the SUV with her boot. She slapped his shoulder and whispered, 'Hey you."

If looks could kill, Goren's partner would have met the angels at that moment. He returned his attention to Annie. "I'm sorry I haven't called before, but we got busy. I'm probably going to be late."

Annie said excitedly, "Are you on a stakeout?"

"Yup."

That's okay, that's what microwaves are for. No big deal. Mmmm….and Lord knows I'm not going to cool down. Let me give you something to think about while you do your little stakeout, okay?

Bobby smiled, "Okay."

"I lit candles all over the room. I've got Sade playing on the stereo; do you hear it?" She held out the phone so he could hear it.

Goren cleared his throat and licked his lips. "Go on."

Annie was enjoying this almost as much as he was. "I've got my curls down and soft, like you like them the best. I put my makeup on and I have on red lipstick. Should I continue?"

"Certainly," Goren replied, his breath quickened a bit.

"I'm wearing a black lace push-up bra that hugs every curve. I'm wearing a black leather miniskirt that barely fits my hips and covers my thighs…oh and my thigh-high black leather high-heel 'fuck me' boots."

Bobby swallowed. "You didn't mention…"

"That's because I'm not wearing any."

"Oh my."

"I'll stay up as late as I can, love."

"Okay, see you soon, love you."

"Love you too, Bobby."

He disconnected the phone, and gradually turned his gaze to Eames, who stared in disbelief. "Did you just say 'love you' to another human being?"

"Of course I said it to another human being. Who else would I say it to?"

"I don't know…dogs, solved case files, your reflection when you wake up in the morning…"

He laughed, "Shut up."

Eames leaned over, as if there were any other people in the SUV to hear, and whispered, "and did I hear her say 'fuck me boots'?"

"God Eames, eavesdrop much?"

"WE'RE IN A CLOSED VEHICLE! How could I not hear?"

"You tell anybody, I swear I'll…"

"You'll what?"

"I'll put that picture of you from middle school with the headgear and the retainer."

"NO WAY!"

"Oh yes!"

"Okay, I'll keep my mouth shut. Cross my heart and hope to—"

At that moment, there was a knock on Goren's window. It was one of the detectives sent out to relieve them.

Goren turned to Eames, "Alex, can you…"

"I'll catch them up—go."

"How will you get home?"

"I'll take a cab."

Goren reached into his pocket and gave her cab fare. "If that's not enough I'll pay you tomorrow."

"Go!"

Goren almost jumped out of the SUV, took the keys from the detective and headed to the sedan. He got in and took off, trying really hard not to break the speed limit.


	10. Chapter 10

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 10

A Law & Order CI Fanfic

Note: All Characters from Law & Order CI are the Copyright of Dick Wolf. The others are of my imagination.

WARNING: CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT

Bobby didn't think he would ever find a place to park the car near Annie's apartment. Finally, a space opened up about 3 blocks away. He literally sprinted to her building, ran up the steps, flung open the huge outside door like it was made of paper, and rushed to her apartment door. He knocked quietly, so as not to disturb the neighbors.

"Annie," he whispered hoarsely, "It's me."

Chains rattled, locks tumbled there was a pause of a second or two. "Come in."

He opened the door, and there she stood, just as she described. Her auburn hair fell in a soft mane of curls, smoky eyes gazed at him, pouty dark-red lips waited for him invitingly. Her bare shoulders led to a lacy bra that pushed her breasts up and together to make them even more luscious. The curves leading down to her hips were firm and lush. The black mini-skirt barely covered the tops of her succulent thighs. A few inches from her skirt began these amazing, laced up, black leather boots with at least a four inch high heel. He didn't think he was going to make it to her before he came. He started naming the state capitals in his head just to calm things down a little bit, but it wasn't helping much.

"Hi Baby," Annie said. "You hungry?" She lavished her hand over the table where a feast sat waiting. That's when Bobby noted the dark red nails that matched the lipstick and that was it.

He looked at her, and then walked toward her, shedding his coat as he came toward her. She pulled him closer and took off his tie. Bobby kissed her softly. "Oh, I'm hungry all right. I'm starving."

Annie unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it out of his pants, while Bobby kissed her and ran his big hands along the curves of her sides and down to her hips. He ran his hands under her tight mini-skirt and moaned when he felt that she truly was bare underneath. He worked his way around and within seconds he had Annie moaning and grinding beneath his hand. He reached up, Annie whining slightly in disappointment, and he undid her lacy strapless bra, cradling her breasts as they came loose from their restraints. His mouth went from one to the other, making Annie whimper with desire.

Suddenly, Bobby said, "come here," and turned her around so her back was facing him. Bobby eased her down on her knees. He pulled up her mini-skirt, rubbing and stroking her ass and between her thighs until her thighs were trembling. "Oh God," Bobby whispered, "You're so beautiful."

He undid his belt, unzipped his fly, and entered her, slowly easing in and out so as to make it last. Annie whimpered and moved in rhythm with him, urgently meeting his thrusts. He reached for her breast and fondled for a while, then moved his finger down and gently circled her clitoris. "Bobby! Oh my God!

Yes! Just like that!" Her moans and talking made him even more aroused, causing him to move faster. The sight of her below him, the skirt up around her waist, her breasts, the boots, it just all became too much. Suddenly he's trying not to scream, "Annie!" as the waves of orgasm wash over him. She collapsed, warm and spent and happy. Bobby rolled next to her and pulled her in his arms.

"Damn woman," Bobby said, breathing like he'd been running after a criminal, "That was amazing."

"Yes Darlin' it was," Annie said, kissing his chest, flicking her tongue on his nipple."NOW are hungry?"

"In a moment," Bobby said with a devilish grin on his face. He started to kiss her softly, and then moved down to her breasts, circling her nipples with his tongue and sucking on them gently. Anny moaned softly in anticipation. Bobby kissed and licked her stomach, rubbing her sides and placing soft "love bites" on her belly and gently squeezing her hips.

Her skirt was all the way up, revealing her in all her glory. He reached underneath and cupped her buttocks. Her legs fell open like the blooming of a flower. Bobby lowered his head, kissing the inside of Annie's thighs, until Annie was pleading, "Bobby please, please!"

Finally, his mouth found its mark, licking, sucking, soft bites. Annie writhed and moaned, arching her back to meet Bobby's mouth. "Oh God. Oh God yes. Just like that, Bobby."

Soon she was writhing faster and faster, bucking against Bobby's mouth. "Now, Bobby. Now. I want you inside me."

Bobby crawled out of his pants, kneeled over her and entered her again, this time face-to-face. They kissed as they found their rhythm, their hands either touching each other or locked together. Annie looked into Bobby's eyes and saw a light, a look she had never seen with another man. She came first, then when Bobby did he cried, "I love you, Annie!" She rolled on top of him, kissed him gently and whispered, "I love you too. More than you know."

Annie scratched her red nails gently down his chest. "Let's get more comfortable, and I'll fix you a plate. I'm sure you're starving by now."

"Yeah," he smiled, "I am."

Annie pulled the futon out, laid out the sheets and blankets, and then went to get out of those boots, which had zippers down the inner side, thank God. She unzipped her mini-skirt and wiggled out of that, then grabbed on oversize Bob Marley t-shirt and headed for the kitchen.

Bobby was lying on the futon in his briefs, flipping channels on the TV. Annie heated up an enormous plate of food, which Bobby polished off in minutes. "Girl, you can cook!" Bobby declared, "Damn, that was good!

"Of course I can cook, I'm part southern. If you can't cook by the time you're grown, they take you out back and shoot you!" Annie giggled. She put the leftovers away, and then went to lie with Bobby on the bed.

"You know," Bobby said, "We've not had the talk yet."

Annie looked at him quizzically. "What talk?"

"You know. When you're going to move in with me. I have way too much stuff for this little place."

Annie was thunderstruck. "Wow. Um, Bobby, from all the things we've talked about, I get the feeling that you treasure your privacy. If I move in, we'd see each other so much more. I'd invade your inner sanctum. I mean, I've not even seen your place yet. Are you sure you want to talk about this now?"

"Absolutely. I'm tired of being alone, of coming home to an empty place. If I want privacy, I can go inside myself. Can you deal with those times when I just don't want to talk?"

"Of course, Bobby; everyone has them."

"Okay, how about you come over to my place tomorrow, we'll spend the night there, and you can get the feel for the place."

She kissed him and snuggled up next to him. "Sounds great."

. . . . . . . . . . . .. . .

EARLIER THAT EVENING…

Darryl Miller sat in the dark on a street in Lenox Hill, watching a black SUV as it sat in front of Ricky Stanton's apartment building. Darryl had been there even before they had arrived. Darryl had told Ricky everything that had happened while he was in custody, mainly because Stanton's car was there to pick him up outside the station when he was released. He had no choice but to tell the truth; if he didn't, Ricky would kill him.

So Ricky assigned him to watch the stakeout; the target was Goren. If he saw him leave, follow him wherever he went.

When Goren hopped out of the SUV, into a sedan and took off, Darryl went right behind him. He followed him all the way to his destination, all the way up to the door, glancing as he watched him go in. Darryl went down the street and dialed Ricky's number.

"Stanton. 'sup?"

"Hey, it's Darryl."

"I know that you moron, I saw it on the caller i.d. Now tell me what's going on!"

"I sat at the stakeout for a long, long time. Finally, Goren gets out of the SUV and takes off in a sedan."

"Without his partner?"

"Yeah, by himself. He takes the sedan like a bat out of hell and circles this block a few times until he finds a spot. Then he goes to this building and goes in."

Stanton, getting even more impatient says, "Yeah. So?"

Darryl swallows and says, "You won't believe whose building it was."


	11. Chapter 11

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 11

A Law & Order CI Fanfic

WARNING: Explicit Contact

Note: All the characters of Law & Order CI are the copyright of Dick Wolf; the others are the property of my imagination.

The morning sun stared into the window, shining right into Bobby's sleepy eyes. He woke slowly, rubbed his eyes, and had one of those split-second moments where he didn't know where he was. Then he heard Annie's deep, soft breathing as she slept next to him; a smile of contentment came across his face. He gingerly turned so he was facing her back, leaned up on one elbow, and just watched her sleep. He had never really been attracted to redhead/auburn haired women before; blondes were usually his type. And he always thought that slimmer women were more attractive—that's the kind of women he usually dated. But Annie changed his perspective altogether. Her auburn curls were so beautiful, like a princess. From her pouty lips to the curves of her waist and her plump, round ass, not to mention her breasts—Bobby had never been with a woman with such beautiful breasts. Just that thought made him lightly trace the slope of her breast with his finger. He gently kissed her bare shoulder, eased her hair back from her face and whispered, "Good morning, Love."

"Mmmmmmmmm….Good morning, Gorgeous." She turned around to face him and smiled sleepily. "Sleep well?"

"Like a rock." He kissed her gently and held her in his arms.

"Well, part of you may not be sleeping, but it's certainly like a rock." She slid her hand down his stomach, between his legs.

"Annie, babe…"

She kissed his chest, sucking lightly on his nipples, then looked up and smiled. "Beg for it."

"Annie, babe, please…" He spoke through gritted teeth, his breathing labored.

Annie moved her way down slowly, kissing his chest, sucking his nipples, nipping on his belly, moving slowly down toward his thighs. She kissed the inside of his thighs, lips lightly grazing across his cock on occasion until he literally was begging her to go down on him. At first, she spit on her hands to make then moist, and gently approached his rock-hard shaft. She ran her hands slowly up and down his shaft while licking and swirling her tongue around the head of his penis. He moaned, "Oh God, oh Annie, oh God… ."

But the best was yet to come.

Some women are terrible at giving oral sex, some learn and get better, and some are just born with the talent. Annie was one of the latter—she knew how to drive men out of their minds.

She took Bobby's shaft into her mouth; the entire member went in even though it was quite large. Bobby let out a groan that Annie was sure the whole apartment building heard.

She then sucked from the back of her throat (at the soft palette) squeezing and releasing the head of his penis, and ran her tongue back and forth. She cupped his balls, fondling them gently.

"OH GOD, YES! DON'T STOP!" Bobby cried. He was trembling all over, his hands laced through her auburn curls, directing her head occasionally.

In a few moments he reached under her arms, pulled her away and flung her up on the pull-out underneath him. He held both her wrists in one hand, took his other hand to ease her legs apart and entered her swiftly, bucking and grinding like he never had before. The whole concept of her taking charge turned him on more than he ever dreamed it would. He came violently, urgently, "Oh, Jesus!"

"Woman," Bobby whispered as he rolled on his back off of her, "you never cease to amaze me. How did you learn to do that?"

"I don't know. I just did it. It's a God-given talent." She kissed him tenderly and then got up to shower and dress for work.

"God-given is right," Bobby said. He looked up at the ceiling and muttered, "Thank you God, for the perfect woman."

"Um, I heard that, and that's bullshit. I am far from perfect."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ricky Stanton was working on his third cup of coffee, all three spiked with liquor. He turned to Darryl Miller across the room.

"You're sure it was her building?"

"Positive, Ricky. I've been there before, like ten times, and when we moved her stuff."

Ricky ran his hands through his dark brown hair, his dark green eyes staring off into space.

"Hey Ricky," Darryl said cautiously, "maybe he was there to see someone different. Maybe it's just a coincidence. Maybe he was there to see someone else."

Ricky picked up his coffee cup and slung it against the wall, shattering it and making a huge stain on the wall. "Oh hell yeah! Maybe it's just a coincidence that Goren's been to that building at least ten times since that kid was shot. It's a big ol' coincidence! Bullshit! That's Annie's building. She's turned on me! My ex-wife has spilled her guts to the cops! Goren's not the only one on my list!


	12. Chapter 12

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 12

A Law & Order CI Fanfic

Note: All Law & Order CI characters are the property of Dick Wolf; the others are of my imagination (also—thanks to fellow author UnchainedVixen for the inspiration and ideas)

WARNING: Some adult material

"Two days? YOU are taking off work for two days without someone making you do it?" Eames eyes were as big as saucers when she heard the news from Goren.

"Yep. Now just shut your big mouth and don't make so much about it," Goren smiled, "or the whole precinct will be talking about it. I've just had a lot of stress lately and I need a couple of days away."

Eames rolled her eyes. "Yeah, real stressed. You've been walking around here like the cat that ate the canary."

Goren passed by her desk, leaned down and whispered, "Well, I have been eating something."

She smacked his arm. "Gross. Don't talk about it."

"I thought you wanted all the details."

"Not THOSE kind of details, you big moose. I wanted to hear the romantic stuff."

"Oh yeah, there's a lot of that, too. You know, kissing and spooning and that stuff."

"Aww Goren, I never pegged you for a spooner."

"You'd be surprised."

There was a very pregnant pause, and then Eames leaned across the desk and whispered, "So you do that, huh?"

"What?"

"You know. THAT."

"Oh yeah. Love it."

Damn. Too bad I didn't find that out before I learned how weird you are."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

That evening, Bobby came to Annie's to pick her up. He was in such a good mood. He rapped on the door, "Baby, you ready?"

He heard the familiar sounds of the chains and the locks and then saw Annie standing there with her backpack on, wearing tight jeans and cable-knit fisherman's sweater. Her hair was back in a ponytail with loose tendrils framing her face. Even without makeup, she still took Bobby's breath away every time he saw her.

"I'm ready. This is exciting—an adventure!"

Bobby laughed. "An adventure? You can't tell me you've never been to Brooklyn."

They had reached the outside steps, and Bobby was on the step down from her. "I've never been to Brooklyn with you, and I've never been to your Man Cave!" Being on the upper step, she was eye-to-eye with him. She kissed him—Bobby noted she tasted of oranges.

"Let's go," he said, pulling her close, squeezing her buttocks. "The next four days are all ours, to do whatever we want."

He led her to an older but very well-kept tan Mercedes sedan. "So this is what you drive when you're not on the job."

"Yep. This is my baby. Well, next to you, of course." He took her backpack and put it in the backseat, then opened the door for her, kissing her before she entered the car. When Bobby got in and turned the key, Bob Marley's music began to fill the car. Annie began to sway back and forth, singing along. "Love it. Great music to travel to Brooklyn."

Bobby laughed. "You sound like we're going to Tennessee or something."

"Oh Bobby, maybe we could sometime! My family would love you. They would dote on you and pat on you and love you and feed you until you weighed 300 pounds!" She laughed at the thought.

Soon (by the grace of the traffic gods) they were at Bobby's place. It was not quite what Annie expected, but then again with Bobby she never knew what to expect. Bobby lived on the second floor of a beautifully restored old brownstone, the entire floor, which was quite a bit of room. For some reason, Annie expected something more modern and utilitarian, but she was glad she was wrong.

He had a designated spot in front of the house, pulled in and jumped out to open her door and grab her backpack. He led her up to the door and stopped. "I feel like I should carry you over the threshold."

"Now hold up buddy," she said laughing, "we're quite a ways from that."

Bobby said, "Say 'quite' again."

"Why?"

"Because it's just so damn southern and sexy."

Annie chuckled. "Honey, you've been pent up for so long that I could speak Klingon and it would sound sexy. Now come on."

"Awn. God, that's my favorite."

"Are we gonna stand here all evening, or are we going in?"

"Sorry." He unlocked the front door, and then led her up the two short flights of stairs to his personal front door. He seemed nervous as he unlocked the door and opened it for her.

"Well, here it is…"

It was lovely. Warm tones filled the living space. A massive brown leather sofa and chair sat invitingly, and the gleaming wood floors were accented with rugs the color of butterscotch. Touches of red were here and there—a vase, a pillow, accented in the painting that hung over the mantle. It was very masculine, but very beautiful.

"Oh Bobby, it's gorgeous. It's as big as my whole apartment!" She walked over and touched the buttery leather of the chair.

"Come on," Bobby said, "you can see the rest of the place. They took a few steps and wood floor turned into the tile of the kitchen—a beautiful light sage color. Granite countertop, stainless appliances, and all the things you would see in a kitchen on the cover of a magazine.

"Ooh, you cook?" Annie said hopefully.

"Yeah, I'm pretty good, actually. You get tired of take out or eating in restaurants alone all the time, so you have to be resourceful."

Annie looked around at this lush space.

"Bobby, no offense, but how can you afford this?" She looked at him sheepishly, wishing she could take the question back.

"Well, detectives make more than patrolmen, plus I have a financial advisor who helps me invest wisely. I worked on this place a little at a time, and eventually I got what I wanted."

"I'm sorry; it's not my business…"

Bobby kissed her lips lightly. "Hey, no secrets. It's okay."

He took her hand and led her down the hall to the bathroom with the four-head shower (I've got plans for that, Bobby mused), his study/office which smelled faintly of whisky and cigars and was piled up with files on the desk, and bookshelves surrounded the walls.

Finally, they reached the bedroom. This room, oddly enough, was gray—the bedding, the linen, the drapes—with touches of maroon here and there. The only color in the room came from the spines of the books in the bookshelves that lined the walls of the bedroom. Even the carpet was gray.

"So," Bobby said, putting her backpack on the bed, "welcome to the Man Cave. I hope you like it."

"I love it. It's beautiful. Almost as beautiful as you." She kneeled up on the bed, pushed her backpack off of it, and in one smooth motion took off her sweater.

Bobby smiled. "Now that's beautiful." He put his hands on her breasts, kissing them softly where they plunged out of the top. "I've never seen this pink one before. New?"

"Yep. Bought it just for this occasion."

Bobby grinned excitedly. "Do the panties match?"

Annie took Bobby's hand and eased it up to the fly of her jeans. "Why don't you find out for yourself?"

And in one move, one moment, the Man Cave became the Love Nest.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Alex Eames was still at the squad room at seven pm when she received an envelope from one of the patrolmen. "Detective Eames," the patrolman said, "this was left for you in the mail room." She opened it curiously, not waiting to read it, even though it said "Goren/Eames" on the outside.

Inside was an enhanced photocopy of a police i.d. and a set of fingerprints. The name on the i.d. was Richard Turner. It was at least ten years old. Eames recognized the face immediately. There was a short, unsigned note inside the envelope. All it said was

STANTON USED TO BE ONE OF US


	13. Chapter 13

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 13

A Law & Order CI Fanfic

Note: All characters of Law & Order CI are the copyright of Dick Wolf; all others are the product of my imagination

NOTE: Contains language, explicit content

Bobby was up making breakfast after what he could confidently say was the best night of lovemaking in his life. That even includes back in his 20s and 30s, and definitely includes his awkward teenage years. He knew there was not one inch of that woman's body he didn't know, and vice versa.

He loaded up the tray with breakfast fare—scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, toast, juice, coffee—and walked down the hall to the bedroom where Annie still lay sleeping. He fumbled a bit with the tray when he got to the doorway. He wondered if he would ever get over how beautiful she was. She was sleeping on her side, facing him, and had kicked the sheet off in her sleep. He put the tray on the table beside the bed, crept down to the top of her foot and kissed it tenderly, then moved his lips gingerly up her leg to her hip. His lips brushed the delicious V between her legs, and she moaned softly in her sleep. His lips then touched her tummy, then her exposed breast. She began to stir, in more ways than one.

He reached her lips, and softly bit on that big beautiful pouty lower lip. She grinned and took him into her arms, kissing him back. "Oh my," Annie said, "What a way to wake up," She opened her eyes and as usual her heart fluttered when she saw Bobby. She thanked God every morning that this amazing man had come into her life. Big, strong, kind, gentle, smart, funny, and so handsome he took her breath away. And he cooked, because the smell of bacon crept toward her.

"Yum. Something smells great." Annie stretched out and Bobby couldn't resist taking a nipple in his mouth.

"Yeah. I made breakfast."

Annie giggled. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to talk with your mouth full?"

He gently sucked and swirled his tongue around her nipple, then moved to the other. "My mother never said don't talk with a nipple in your mouth."

"Yeah, well maybe she should have. Anyway, I'm starving. We burned a lot of calories last night. Now come up here," she said pulling his mouth off her breast and up to hers, "and feed me."

He pouted slightly. "You'd rather eat than make love? Uh-oh, the honeymoon's over already."

Annie reached up and touched Bobby's face, "no way, my angel. It's just that the food will get cold and we won't."

"Good point." Bobby reached for the tray.

They ate breakfast leisurely, the foldout tray between them, his right leg and her left leg supporting the tray. While watching the morning news, they would take turns feeding each other, with Annie accusing Bobby of hogging all the bacon.

"I am not. You're feeding it to me."

"Yeah, but you're also feeding it to yourself, piglet."

Annie asked, "So what are we gonna do today?"

"Eat, watch TV, and fuck."

She giggled. "Sounds like a winner to me."

Bobby said, "I think there's something else we need to do today too."

"What's that?"

"Talk about some stuff. Some relationship stuff. I have some things to talk to you about, Annie."

Annie's fair skin went even paler. "Oh God, you're breaking up with me."

"NO, no, it's not that. Hold on." He grabs the tray and takes it back to the kitchen, then hurries back to the bedroom, as if she would disappear if he took too long. He sat opposite her on the bed and took both her hands, looked at her for a long time, then said, "Um, maybe you should put a shirt on or I'm not going to be able to think."

She crawled over to his side of the bed on her knees to reach his t-shirt on the floor. That just made it worse; he wanted to just grab that sweet little butt and go at it. But he resisted.

Annie put on the white cotton t-shirt and said, "There. Better?"

"Yeah. Now I can think," Bobby laughed. He took her hands. "Now, let's talk. Usually I haven't told any woman I've been involved with about my past. Not that there have been many. I had a girlfriend in high school named Stephanie, but we broke up when we started college and she moved to the opposite side of the country. She was my first; she was 17 and I was 18." He stopped and looked at her with anticipation.

"Oh, my turn? Okay. My first boyfriend was in high school, and his name was Jason—everyone called him Jay except me. We broke up when I moved from Michigan to Tennessee after high school. Okay, your turn.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Okay, now we get to the part I'm not proud of. My college years. Several frat parties, several one-night stands with sorority girls, but all safe sex and no relationships. Not proud of those years at all. Your turn."

Annie pulled his hand toward her and kissed it. "It's okay, honey; lots of guys go through that phase and are not safe about it, nor do they regret it. Now, let's see. No boyfriend until I was about 19 or so—spent a lot of time riding the strip with my girls, picking a guy I knew, going with him and making out, but that's about it. And Lord have mercy, did I love guitar players. To this day, in a room of 100 men, I can pick out the 1 guitar player. Okay, your turn."

Bobby took a deep breath. "When I was 21, I thought I met the love of my life, and I thought I was the love of her life. But apparently, someone forgot to inform her of that, and she left me after a year. Her name was Cassandra. I was devastated."

She took both of Bobby's hands and kissed them. "I'm so sorry, Bobby."

He smiled. "I'm not. What if I had wound up marrying Cassandra and then met you on the street and looked into those big blue eyes and suddenly realized that I had married the wrong woman? How miserable would that be?"

Annie blinked back a mist of tears. "Stop it, you big oaf, you're going to make me cry like a baby."

"So?"

"So I'm not a baby—I'm thirty-seven years old."

Bobby's eyes grew wide. "Thirty-seven? No way."

"Way."

"What is it, good genes or something?"

"No, I have a portrait in the attic that ages so I don't have to," she smiled devilishly.

"Ooh, a 'Dorian Gray' reference, how very literary of you."

"Well, I was an English major for three months."

Bobby grinned. "Okay English major, it's your turn."

Annie sighed. "Well, I'm not proud of it, but when I was 20, I had my first sexual experience with the lead guitar player of a rock band after a stadium concert on the bus."

Bobby leaned forward and whispered as if there were other people in the room, "Which band?"

Annie whispered in his ear.

"No way!"

"Way!" Annie frowned. "Do you think I'm a slut?"

"Are you kidding? I don't know if even **I** could pass that up!" They both cracked up laughing.

Annie smiled. "Okay, your turn."

"Well, I didn't date anyone for a long time. I'm talking years; I was convinced I would never find anyone better for me than Cassandra. I got my Criminal Justice degree, went through the Police Academy, and by that time I was ready to give things a try again. I had several first dates, a few second dates, and only 2 third dates. One lady named Linda I dated for a year or so, then we just decided we were going through the motions. Okay, your turn."

Annie sighed, then she leaned over and kissed him. "Well, nothing much happened for about six months or so, then I moved to New York. I had gone to art school in Nashville, so I was able to get a job in graphic design for an ad agency. I met this guy named Richard. I thought he was the most handsome man I had ever seen—of course, I was wrong," she said, leaning over and kissing him again. "Richard and I started dating and within two years we were married. He was a patrolman for the NYPD. I'd think that you two might have worked together, but I'm sure you were a detective by then. Anyway, about a year into our marriage, I caught him cheating on me."

"Cheating? How could he cheat when he had a woman like you?" Bobby reached over and ran his hand over Annie's hair.

"Thank you for saying that. Anyway, he begged my forgiveness, and I took him back. He told me it was just a drunken mistake. Then a few months later he did something that I couldn't forgive. Have you ever had someone ask you to give up your morals, your values, your principles for love? Well, that's what he did. He did something else that combined with the cheating I absolutely could not forgive. I learned what kind of person he really was, and I couldn't live with that person, so we divorced."

Bobby sat silent for a moment. "What did he do?"

"I won't talk about it. He's out of my life, and it doesn't affect me anymore. So that's it for me. I divorced when I was almost 24. I hadn't dated again until you, except a few lousy blind dates. Does it change how you feel about me because I've been married before?"

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't expect any different. Any man you gave attention to would be out of his mind not to marry you. But—wait a minute," Bobby figured up in his head. "So you mean to tell me that until we were together, you hadn't had sex in THIRTEEN years?"

"Yep. Well, not with someone anyway. I decided I'd wait until I was in love."

"Well woman, you certainly didn't lose your touch over the years. Speaking of," he said bending back and pulling her on top of him, "Looks like we've got some catching up to do." He reached under her t-shirt and started to fondle her breasts, which responded immediately. She carefully took the shirt off and eased Bobby inside her. She arched her back as she rocked back and forth on top of him, his hands reaching to stroke her breasts and stomach…

. . . . . . . . . . . .

From the moment Eames got the note from the patrolman, she found herself in a huge dilemma. She was dying to talk to Goren, but he was on vacation and she didn't want to disturb him. She decided she would find out as much as she could about the real Ricky Stanton—a.k.a. Richard Turner—and then fill him in when he got back.

Problem was, there wasn't a lot to find. She wasn't even sure where the documents she had been given came from. Richard Turner had pretty much dropped off the face of the earth. She found his police academy record, but that did little good. The papers she was given gave an address in the Bronx, so she decided to see if anyone there could give her some information.

When she reached the address, she found a pleasing white house trimmed in green. A knock on the door revealed no one was home; the same at the house to the right. When Eames knocked at the house to the left, an attractive woman with graying hair in mid 50s came to the door. She was dressed in black slacks and a purple sweater.

She smiled at Eames. "Hello. May I help you?"

Eames showed her badge. "Hello ma'am. I'm Detective Eames from the Major Case Squad of the NYPD. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions."

The woman smiled and held out her hand. "Carmen McClain; nice to meet you. What type of questions?"

Eames smiled. "I was wondering; how long have you lived at this address?"

"Oh, all my life—fifty-two years."

"Then I believe you'll be a great help. A few years back, I'm not sure how many, a police officer named Richard Turner lived in the house next door," Eames pointed toward the white house, "do you remember Mr. Turner?"

Ms. McClain smiled. "Oh yes! I remember them well."

"Them?"

"Yes, Richard and his wife Annie. Such sweet people! Such a shame they were here for such a short time."

Eames asked, "What kind of people were they?"

"Oh, very nice, very friendly. They always came to the block parties, barbeques, and things like that. In fact, I am sure I have a photo or two of them you can have."

Eames smiled. "If it's not too much trouble, ma'am."

"None at all. I am very OCD about everything—including photos. Please, come in and have a seat."

Eames perched on the edge of the couch, not wanting to disturb anything in the pristinely clean house. Ms. McClain went into another room and came back with a shoebox with a span of years marked on it. Inside were packets of photos all labeled meticulously—"Block Party 2000," "BBQ 1999," etc. She reached into one packet and thumbed through the photos. "Ah, here's a good one," she exclaimed, "and you can keep it because they left soon after and I never got to give them their copy." She handed the photo to Eames.

It was all Eames could do to not reveal her shock. Her hand trembled slightly as she held the photo.

In the photo was the same good-looking man from the mug shot of Ricky Stanton, only with shorter hair. He was standing behind a lawn chair. He was leaning down with his arms around the shoulders of a woman, holding her hands. While finding evidence of Ricky Stanton's former life was big, the most shocking thing was that the woman Richard Turner had his arms wrapped around was not only his wife Annie, but Goren's Annie as well.

She thanked her host and rushed back to the station.


	14. Chapter 14

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 14

A Law & Order CI Fanfic

Note: All Characters of Law & Order CI are copyright of Dick Wolf; the others are the product of my imagination.

WARNING: Explicit Content

Eames mind raced as she went back to the station. How could this happen? Was the meeting of Annie and Bobby on purpose? Was Annie trying to lure Bobby into a trap, or was there a one in a billion chance that Bobby and Annie just met and fell in love? Should she call him? What if she had nothing to do with "Stanton's" criminal life and it would ruin the relationship that was making Bobby so happy? Her mind was spinning like a carousel out of control. She had no idea how to handle this.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Bobby and Annie were in bed, watching an old tearjerker movie on TV—"Backstreet" with Susan Hayward and John Gavin, the story of a woman who meets a married man and lives her whole life in the shadows as his mistress. It had just ended, and Annie was literally bawling. Bobby held her close and said, "Honey, it's just a movie."

"I know, but I always cry, every time I watch it. It was worse this time because I kept thinking 'what if Bobby **had** married Cassandra and we had met and fallen in love.' I would have been just like Susan Hayward; I would have spent my life living for you." She kept crying.

Bobby chuckled, and she smacked him on the chest. "It's not funny!"

"I know it's not, but I was just thinking if I were John Gavin I would divorce my wife, take the kids, and marry Susan Hayward." He nuzzled her neck. "You know how I feel about redheads."

"Would you really?"

"You bet I would. And we could live in that gorgeous house he built for her."

"Bobby, I wouldn't care if we lived in a cardboard box, just as long as we were together."

"Well I would. I'm not making you live in any cardboard box. What happens when it rains? Yuck."

"I was being metaphoric."

"Oh, good, because I want you right here in this apartment, in my bed, for at least the next three days."

Annie snuggled up next to him. "We're not leaving this room for three days?"

"Well, not the apartment, anyway. Come on with me." Bobby took her hand and led her down the hallway to the living room. He sat her down on the buttery soft leather sofa. "Here, get comfortable."

She sat down and spread her legs as Bobby kneeled and moved in between them. He kissed her slowly, softly, deeply, their tongues exploring, teasing, and biting each other's lips. Annie held Bobby close, running her hands over his back, his ass, his thighs, kissing his shoulders and his neck.

Bobby leaned her back, cupping her face in his hands. "I love you, Baby," he whispered. He kissed her neck, his tongue circling her breasts, taking as much of them as he could into his mouth, licking and sucking on her rosy pink nipples.

'Oh God, Bobby, yes," Annie whispered, "Oh, yes."

Bobby began kissing down her stomach, and with one swift move brought her bottom forward on the couch. She was already moist, of course, and he reveled in her taste, lapping and circling her clitoris, nibbling it gently, licking up and down until she was writhing with pleasure.

"Oh Bobby, oh damn, yes, just like that, don't stop!" He stuck his finger in and out while nibbling on her clit and she began to moan, "Oh, I'm coming—Oh God—Oh—Oh—Oh!" She grabbed his head and ran her fingers through his hair, so sensitive that she begged him to stop.

Bobby gave her one more lick or two, then rose up and entered her. "God baby, you're so beautiful when you come." He moved back and forth slowly, entering deeply and groaning with each stroke. "Mmm. Damn. Yeah, Baby fuck me. You're so beautiful."

Annie wrapped her legs around Bobby's waist, helping to push him farther inside her, meeting his strokes in perfect rhythm. She threw her head back and Bobby sucked on one of her breasts, then the other.

Bobby tried to think of other things to make it last longer, but it was just so, so good. He began to pound into Annie faster and faster, muttering, "Oh yeah, yeah Baby, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna, oh yeah…." And Bobby arched his back and came violently, leaning against Annie and breathing heavily.

Annie stroked Bobby's hair, kissed his forehead, cooed and whispered sweet nothings into his ear as he regained his composure. She took his hand and helped him up, leading him to the bathroom. He stood there as she turned on the four-head shower, checking the temperature as if checking a baby's bath.

"Come on, Darling," and they stepped inside the shower.

They spent a long time leisurely showering together, soaping each other all over and rinsing under the waterfall of the shower. Bobby took the shampoo and had Annie lean back; gently and tenderly washing her hair. It felt so good Annie returned the favor; it felt so good to Bobby that it gave him goose bumps.

When they finished showering, they dried each other off gently and lovingly, kissing gently as they did so. Annie led Bobby to bed, lay down beside him, and pulled the covers over the both of them. Bobby held her in his arms tightly, and Annie could see the mist of sleep coming over his face.

"I feel so safe with you," she said, snuggling next to him.

"You are safe," Bobby whispered as he drifted off, "as long as we're together, I won't let anything bad happen to you."


	15. Chapter 15

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 15

A Law & Order CI Fanfic

Note: All characters of Law & Order CI are the copyright of Dick Wolf; all others are from my imagination (with some inspiration and help from UnchainedVixen—she knows what it is—thanks sis)

Trudy Willman was what most men would call a knockout. Long black hair, shimmering violet eyes, and a figure any woman would sell her soul for. You would think that a woman this beautiful (and obviously this rich, as she was living in the same apartment building in Lenox Hill as Stanton) would have a care in the world. The truth is, she was a true survivor of a real-life nightmare. She had almost been killed by her now ex-husband seven years ago, and that time of her life made this beautiful woman cautious, leery, and dangerous, just like a panther on alert for both predators and prey.

She didn't trust anyone easily, and she was armed at all times. After her divorce, she had gone to law school and passed the BAR exam, so she knew what was acceptable protection and what was not. She carried a Derringer 22 Magnum with her at all times, and had an app on her cell phone that recorded conversations with the push of a button.

Trudy was worried about protecting herself; she had no idea she would be protecting total strangers.

Trudy stood at the elevator while a man in his 30s wearing a suit. He smiled at her, undressing her with his eyes.

"Hello pretty lady," he said, cocking his head to the right a bit as if to try to get a better look at her cleavage.

Trudy reached into her pocket and touched the recorder button on the phone. "Hello. I'm Tracy. And you are?"

"I'm Darryl. I work for Ricky Stanton. Ever heard of him? He's pretty big around NYC. He's an "importer," Darryl said, using his fingers to make quotation marks in the air. "He used to be a cop."

"Oh really?" Trudy asked, pretending to be interested, but truthfully part of her was a bit intrigued.

They entered the elevator, and Trudy pushed the ground floor button.

"Yeah. I'm headed out on a stakeout to try to find a guy named Goren. He's getting a little too nosey, if you know what I mean." Darryl shrugged his shoulders like he'd probably seen in every mafia movie ever made. "Him, his partner, and his woman."

"Hmmm" Trudy said. What a knuckle dragging mouth breather, she thought to herself. You don't go around telling shit like that.

"Hey Tracy," Darryl said, getting a bit too close, "maybe we could go out sometime, maybe have some dinner or something; or maybe we could just stay home." He had gotten so close she was against the wall, and he was facing her, hands on the elevator wall on each side of her.

"Hey Darryl," Trudy breathed, "maybe you'll back off or I'll kick your nuts up into your nose."

"Jesus, easy lady, I was just asking." The elevator opened, and he let Trudy get off first. "Ya can't blame a guy for trying."

"Yeah, and you can't blame a girl for saying no," Trudy said as she exited the building.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"Eames, look," the Captain said earnestly, "we can't just go and arrest a guy on a couple of old police ID's and a photograph. That's not probable cause.'

"But captain, what if she's part of it? What if she's setting him up? He's alone with her right now, in his place! All we have to do is call and let him know the information we've found out and bring her in. We question her and see where it goes!"

"What did I just say? WE DON'T HAVE ENOUGH FOR PROBABLE CAUSE!" the Captain said, raising his voice so loudly that people outside the glass office looked up with interest.

Eames threw the documents and photo down on the desk and said, "I'm going to tell Bobby…"

The Captain raised his eyes. "He'll hate you for it."

"I don't care. I'd rather he hate me and live than be my friend and die." Eames left the office, grabbed her bag, and rushed out of the station.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

After three tries, Trudy had finally found the right police station to report the information. She knew it was none of her business, but she could not in her heart keep this to herself and possibly let three people die.

A patrolman escorted her to the Captain's office and knocked on the door.

"Captain, sir, this lady says she has something urgent she needed to talk to you about."

The Captain rose and gestured to the empty chair in front of his desk. "Please, miss, come in."

Trudy shook the Captain's hand firmly. "Captain, my name is Trudy Willman. I live in Lenox Hill. I'm an attorney and have a very violent past with my ex-husband. Because of that, I carry a firearm and a recording device on my phone.

"Go on," the Captain prompted.

"Well, some punk named Darryl struck up a conversation, so I pushed the recorder button. Listen to this."

Trudy pushed the button, and played the entire conversation for the Captain.

The Captain turned pale as a sheet.

"Thank you Ms. Willman. You are a one in a million citizen, especially in this city. Hardly anyone would get involved in a situation like this. May I take your phone for a moment to record the conversation?"

"Of course."

"Thank you. Somebody get this conversation recorded off this phone immediately! Get the squad cars and back-up to Stanton's! Eames is headed to Goren's to warn him, so she's got that covered. Let's get moving. We have our probable cause!


	16. Chapter 16

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 16

A Law and Order CI Fanfic

Note: All Characters of Law & Order CI are the copyright of Dick Wolf; all others are the product of my imagination (with help and inspiration in part from UnchainedVixen)

Warning: Explicit Content and Language

Eames sped over to Goren's apartment; she even used the siren and put the flasher on top of the car to get there. She double-parked in front of the building and ran up the steps to Goren's front door. She knocked violently, but no one answered. They had keys to each other's places for emergencies, so she let herself in, weapon raised and ready. She turned the corner to the bathroom and ran into Goren in a towel, hair damp from the shower.

"Jesus! Eames!" he lowered his voice to a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

"I have to talk to you. Where's Annie?"

"She's asleep. Why?" Bobby glanced toward the bedroom.

"I have to tell you something important. It's about Annie and Stanton. Go put on some pants and I'll make some coffee."

So she told him the whole story, about the documents being delivered to her and Goren revealing Stanton was a cop years ago, and how Annie had once been the wife of Officer Richard Turner. Bobby sat there staring at her with bemusement and more than a little contempt.

"I've got news for you, Eames; I already knew about Annie and Richard," he said stretching the truth a bit—he didn't know Richard Turner was Ricky Stanton. "So where's this photo you found?"

"Shit," Eames muttered, "I left it back at the office."

"Convenient. No concrete evidence. Chances are, I know more about the situation than you do. You know Eames, you've never wanted me to be happy, ever."

"Bobby, that's not true…"

"When are you going to get it in your head that that one kiss was a mistake? We were under pressure—it just happened. I don't feel that way about you and I never will." He put his hand over hers, "I'm sorry.'

Eames rolled her eyes. "Well, someone thinks a lot of himself this afternoon. I got over that long, long ago. I'm just here as your partner, for your safety."

"Well, if you want to stay my partner, then go," Bobby got up and began to walk her to the door.

"Bobby please…what if she's in on it?"

That was the moment Bobby slammed the door in her face.

A moment later, Annie came through wearing Bobby's John Lennon T-shirt, rubbing her eyes like a little child waking from a deep sleep. Bobby came up and took her in his arms, holding her close and rubbing his arms up and down her back, his hands grazing her backside.

"I'm sorry that woke you up, baby," Bobby said, "It was just my partner."

"On. She loves you, you know."

Bobby chuckled uneasily. "She does not."

"I'm not saying it's necessarily romantic love, but she's devoted to you. It's good to have people in your life like that," she said, snuggling up in his freshly washed, clean-smelling chest hair.

"Yeah, I've noticed that," Bobby said, kissing the top of her head. "You know what else I've noticed?" Bobby said, smiling.

"No, what?" Annie said, not helping but returning the smile.

"You have way too many clothes on, girl."

She kissed him, lower lip in her mouth, saying, "So do you, mister." She let go. " Too bad you've taken a shower, my love, because you're about to get dirty again." She reached and undid the button on the fly of his pants, unzipped them, then let them fall to the floor. She pulled them off, and then took off the t-shirt. She reached and turned on the CD player—Sade's "By Your Side" began to play. Annie took Bobby's hand and whispered in his ear, "Dance with me."

They moved slowly, bodies pressed so close and in such rhythm that was smooth and flowing. Gracefully, Annie reached over to the counter to the butter sitting out. She took mall bit into her hand, rubbed her hands together, and moved smoothly like a snake down the front of Bobby's body. He was taut and tense in excitement, with his body's anticipation growing with each kiss and each move she went down Bobby's body. She rubbed her hands together, and slid her buttery hands all around his erect shaft.

"Sit up here, "she whispered, moving him toward the generous countertop. Bobby moaned in expectation as Annie took the head of his cock into her mouth, gently licking the butter snake-like off of the head. As she did this, she gently fondled his balls, cradling them one and then another. She then took her hand and worked it up and down/around at the same time while she put one of his balls in her mouth licking and sucking gently. Bobby mumbled, "Oh God, Baby, Yes. Oh God that's so good. Oh Fuck."

Annie then moved up to his shaft, licking gently around the base while cradling his balls. She moved up and took the shaft in her mouth, licking delicately as she took it further and further into her mouth. At the angle they were, Bobby was able to see her head, her beautiful curly hair flashing in the light as her head moved up and down, and he was able to reach her breast to fondle it while she was doing all these amazing things to his cock. "Mmm, God, Annie," he said, "Faster."

She moved her head faster, his cock reaching far back into her mouth. She was gently fondling his balls, licking with her tongue, moving her mouth up and down, and sucking with the back of her throat. Bobby was grabbing the edge of the counter and raising himself up, getting in rhythm with Annie's mouth. In a few moments, he said, "Oh fuck! Oh Jesus, I'm coming! Oh yea! Damn!" He came explosively down Annie's throat. She took it as if it were her last meal. She then crawled up on the counter and lay on top of Bobby, kissing his chest and trying to get him to calm down.

Annie rose up on her hands, looked into his eyes and said, "Kiss me Bobby so you can taste yourself." He rose up and kissed her hungrily, turned on more by her words and her sense of adventure and wickedness than anything else.

Bobby rose up so they could hold each other and kiss for a few moments. Then Bobby slid out from under Annie and moved Annie so that her legs were hanging over the edge of the counter. He took his finger and ran it along the very inside of her vagina. "You're so wet, Baby; did sucking my cock make you that wet?" He leaned down and kissed it, running his tongue gently along the outside.

"Yes," Annie moaned, "oh yes, Bobby. You make me dripping wet. Eat me Bobby, please, please…"

Bobby started gently kissing her inner thighs, moving her legs so that they were bent at the knees and her feet were up on the countertop. He whispered, 'Oh damn, so beautiful." Bobby ran his tongue along her labia, just barely inside and said, "Annie, you taste so good. Do I make you this wet?"

"Yes," Annie moaned, "Yes Bobby. Please, Bobby, eat my pussy."

He lapped hungrily up and down her vulva, and then finally he made his way to her clit. He lapped, nibbled, circled and sucked until she was literally screaming, her head hanging over the opposite side of the counter.

Bobby ran his tongue down and started fucking her with his tongue while playing with her clit. "Oh Bobby yes, yes, just like that." The next thing she knows, Annie feels a finger gently up her ass. She was squirming and writing with pleasure—having her clit sucked her pussy tongue-fucked and a finger fucking her ass.

"Oh God, oh yes, just like that, don't stop, oh you're so good, so good…" Bobby continued, her ass rising a bit above the counter to meet his mouth. "I'm coming, oh my God yes, Bobby!" She bucked and squirmed, the writhing of her ass slowing down. Bobby did soft licks, causing jolts of bucking and trembling. He pulled her up to him, nibbled her lower lip and said, "Kiss me so you can taste yourself."

She wrapped her arms around his waist, her clit still drawn to him as she held him tight. He carried her to the soft rug in the living room. She got down on her knees and said, "Fuck me Bobby, right now."

Bobby got on his knees and entered her. "God, Baby, you're so wet. Mmmm…you feel so good." Annie rose up so he could stroke her breasts a moment, and then went back on her hands and knees. She bucked back and forth, even rotating as Bobby fucked her. Bobby reached around and gently played with her clit, which made her move even faster. "Oh God yes! Yes!"

Bobby then took hold of her ass with both hands and squeezed it. He briefly thought to himself why did he ever think he wanted those little frail bony girls? The sex had been NOTHING like this.

"You want it baby?" Bobby smacked her ass hard enough to turn it pinker. "You want me to fuck your brains out?"

"Yes, baby, yes," Annie said, reaching with one hand and rubbing her own clit, "fuck my brains out."

He smacked her ass again and pounded, pounded, pounded her until he reached the point of no return. "Oh damn, I'm coming, oh yeah, FUCK!" Bobby's cock erupted inside her, just as she was coming for the third time just in that lovemaking session.

They lay on the floor and kissed; he couldn't stop kissing her—her lips, her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, her breasts, deep within her mouth. It was as if he was a starving man and she were the last morsel of food on the planet—part of him wanted to devour her, and part of him wanted to savor her.

"I didn't get to ask, is everything okay? What did Eames want?" Annie asked quizzically.

Bobby was playing with her curls, making mustaches with them, twisting them around his finger, and running them across his lips. "Well, I guess I should tell you. Apparently, this guy we've been chasing in a case is your ex-husband..."

Annie's blue eyes were huge and full of surprise, "Richard? Oh my God, what did he do?"

"He was involved in a shooting, and a drug operation."

Annie had two big tears running down her cheeks. "The drugs don't surprise me, but the shooting—is the person dead?"

"Yes, I'm afraid he is. What do you mean, the drugs don't surprise you?"

Annie sighed with sorrow. "That's the reason I divorced him. He got involved in drugs; he would take some of the evidence in drug busts before they were turned in as evidence. Then he would sell it. He wanted me to get involved in it, and that's when I divorced him."

"I knew you'd never be that kind of person. So somehow Eames found out that you were his ex-wife and she is convinced that you are part of a set-up to get me lured off the case and killed."

Tears rained down Annie's face. "Bobby. I left him years ago. I have had nothing to do with him. I would never hurt you. I love you. It's just coincidence."

"That's what I told Eames but—"

'She doesn't believe it because she loves you."

"She doesn't love me. We're partners. We're friends."

Annie thought for a minute. "Look. Do you have vacation days?"

"Yeah, and a ton of sick days."

"So do I. Let's pack a bag and go somewhere. Anywhere YOU want. I'll leave my cell phone here so I can only call someone through you. Then you can tell Eames that the location was your choice so there's no way I'm out to get you."

"Good idea. I'll pack my bag and then we'll go to your place and pick up a few things."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I even told her I work for Ricky, but it didn't impress her." Darryl was talking to Manny, one of the other suits up at Ricky's apartment. "She threatened to kick my nuts up behind my nose. One pissed-off chick. Oh, and get this—I checked the mailboxes and slipped the doorman twenty bucks, and her name's not Tracy, it's Trudy—why would the bitch give me a fake name?"

Ricky Stanton (aka Richard Turner) was sitting on the sofa, watching a game on the big-screen TV. "You did what?"

Darryl went pale. "I was trying to pick up this girl, boss. She was smoking hot."

"And you told her you worked for me?

"Well, yeah boss, 'cause you're a big shot around here."

Stanton stood and turned to Darryl. "What else did you say? And don't lie to me because I'll know."

Darryl looked terrified." I told her that we were gonna take care of Goren, his woman, and his partner for getting in our business."

"YOU FUCKING IDIOT! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!" Stanton stood there for a moment, took a deep breath, and turned to Manny. "Change in plans—number one, take care of this" He pointed to Darryl Stanton turned the TV all the way up, turned on a music station and nodded at Manny, whoreached into his suit, pulled out a revolver, and shot Darryl right between the eyes.

Ricky continued. Now, number two: call somebody to clean this up. And number three, we go to Annie's apartment and take them out, or if not, try to find out where they are. Either way, Annie, Goren, and that cute little partner of his are going down tonight. Let's get busy.


	17. Chapter 17

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 17

A Law & Order CI Fanfic

Note: All Characters of Law U Order CI are copyright of Dick Wolf; all others are of my imagination (with mad props to Unchained Vixen)

Please note: While this chapter contains little to no explicit content, I always begin chapters with a caveat, so the reader will know what to expect. If explicit content offends/disturbs you DO NOT READ IT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Either skip those parts or don't read any of it.

After Goren slammed the door in her face, Eames fought back the overwhelming urge to cry. She hadn't felt like this since her husband Joe had been killed—like she had experienced a terrible loss. She had lost her partner's trust and respect, just for trying to save his life.

All this was running through her mind when she pulled back into the station parking lot. She was met with a swarm of police cars rushing out. Something didn't set right; she knew the frenzy of activity had to do with Stanton, Annie, and Bobby.

She reached the Captain's office, walked in, and he immediately said, "Good, you're back. So did you convince Goren that she's not what he thinks she is?"

"He threw me out," Eames muttered, "Wouldn't listen to a word I said."

"Well, he'll believe me, by God." The Captain got on the phone and called Goren's place; the voice mail kicked in after only two rings. "Damn it, he's screening calls. Probably afraid you'll call back."

Eames looked bewildered. "What are we going to do?"

"WE are not going to do anything. You're on that list too, Detective; you are staying right here."

Eames sighed. Too bad she was stuck at the station; she needed a drink and a cigarette. But the truth was, not all the scotch and nicotine in the world could ease that uneasy, anxious feeling she had running through her veins.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bobby and Annie sat on the couch wrapped in blankets, laptop on Bobby's knee.

"Okay, let me decide where I want to go."

Bobby pulled up Google maps of the entire United States, closed his eyes, and pointed his finger. He looked down, "Lexington, Kentucky. Okay, there we go."

"Yep," Annie said, "There we go. Now, do you want to shower first, and then pack a few things?

"Yeah, Baby," he said, kissing her tenderly. "I won't be long."

Bobby got out of his blanket and strolled naked toward the bathroom.

As soon as she heard the shower start, Annie picked up the phone and dialed. When the party answered, she said, "We are going to Lexington, Kentucky. I wanted you to know." She got up and had a snack of toast and jam, waiting for her turn in the shower.

Bobby passed her in the bathroom doorway, kissing her neck. "It won't take me long to pack; I don't have a log of casual clothes"

Bobby decided he'd wait until they were well on the road before he called Eames. As he was packing, he felt a pang of regret that he had been so harsh with her. Whether she had feelings for him or not, she didn't deserve to be treated that way.

Annie got out of the shower, towel-dried her hair, put on her jeans and Bobby's John Lennon shirt, and put on her shoes and jacket. "Ready?"

"Ready. Do you need a suitcase?"

"Nah. I have one at my place."

"Then Lexington, here we come!" He held the door for Annie as they rushed out to the parking lot.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"So where is she?" Manny thought to himself as he was parked outside Annie's apartment building. The boss put him on this detail a day ago, and there had been no sighting of Annie and Goren. He'd been right here except to piss and grab a sandwich at the deli on the corner.

Just when he had given up hope, he saw a tan Mercedes sedan pull up ahead of him and double-park. He sees a guy get out who looks like the photo the boss had given him, and the guy went around and opened the passenger door. Out came a lady with dark red curly hair, who he knew was Annie. She looked pretty, but even better, like she was happier.

Manny would have to wait until they got up to Annie's apartment before he did anything; the street was too crowded to do a hit out here on the sidewalk, and plus it was daylight. At least they were here now; he would just have to wait a little bit longer.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bobby stood protectively behind Annie as she unlocked the front door. They rushed up to her apartment door and unlocked all the deadbolts. Annie ran to the closet and grabbed her suitcase, opened it up on the futon, and started throwing stuff at Bobby. "Here, pack this, and this, and this, and this, and this..." and Bobby tried to keep up with her as she threw clothes like a whirlwind from the closet. She finally came out with two pair of shoes and handful of underthings. "Now," she said," that's it. Let's go."

They shut the apartment door, Bobby carrying the case, and went out to the street. They walked right past the sedan, where Manny, head leaned against the window, had fallen asleep.

They got in the car and headed out. Once they were out of town, Bobby took out his cell phone and dialed Eames. It only had to ring once.

"Bobby."

"Eames look. I know Stanton is out to get us, and I think maybe even you. Annie left her phone at my place and—"

"Bobby I know; Annie called me. You're going to Lexington. I've already called and they are sending you directions to a safe house where you can stay until this blows over."

Bobby glanced at Annie, "She called you?"

"She was afraid you wouldn't let me know. I believe you, Goren. I believe she doesn't have anything to do with it."

"All right. We'll call you when we get there."

"Be careful."

"We will." Bobby hung up the phone and ran his hand over Annie's hair. "I love you."

"Well, I love you too," she said, taking his hand and kissing it.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Manny was awakened by the sound of two car doors slamming. He drowsily raised his head, wiping the drool from the side of his chin. He looked up and saw the tan Mercedes take off down the street. He immediately started the car and began to follow them. He got out his phone and called Ricky.

"Did you get'em?" was the way Ricky answered the phone.

"Um, no, they got away."

"WHAT the fuck did you say?"

"They slipped out, but I'm following them right now."

"Good. You gotta full tank of gas?"

"Yeah."

"Then follow them until you find a time when you can take them out. Get this done. I mean it."

"Yes sir."

Manny turned on a loud rock music station so he could stay awake,, and drove, keeping the tan Mercedes in sight about a block in front of him.


	18. Chapter 18

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 18

A Law & Order CI Fanfic

Note: All characters of Law & Order CI are copyright of Dick Wolf; all others are of my imagination (with props to author UnchainedVixen for help and inspiration)

The patrolmen and SWAT team were at Stanton's Lenox Hill apartment building within minutes. Patrol officers and SWAT team members were at every entrance and exit of the building, the stairways, and the elevators had been cleared and disabled. Everyone was ready, because not only did Stanton (aka Richard Turner) know police tactics, there could be a literal arsenal in that apartment. This was definitely not a one-man job.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Trudy Willman sat nervously at the squad room, waiting to get her phone back; she had recorded the conversation that caused all the commotion in the squad room, and they were copying that conversation for evidence.

Alex Eames walked over and sat down with two cups of coffee, cream and sugar. "Coffee?" she said tiredly. Trudy took the cup gratefully, "Thank you."

"So," Eames started, "You're the lady who recorded the conversation. Thank you for that. I don't know a lot of people who would do that for total strangers."

Trudy chuckled softly. "Believe me, there have been times when I have prayed someone would have done the same for me, but they didn't. I had years of hell with my now ex-husband, and people turned their heads. The abuse, the accusations, the fighting, the harassment," a tear ran down her face, "It was hard dealing with it on my own."

Eames searched Trudy's eyes. "Is it all over now?"

"Yes, thank God."

Eames patted her hand. "Good. Now let's hope it won't be too long until you and I can both go home."

Trudy said, "I understand. I don't exactly want to go home and walk into the middle of that, anyway; I've had enough traumas in my life."

. . . . . . . . . . . ..

Bobby and Annie were driving as quickly as possible without be conspicuous to get a speeding ticket. Annie kept glancing in the side mirror on the passenger side. "Bobby, I think someone is following us."

"Who?" Bobby should have noticed something like that, but all he could think of was putting miles between Stanton and Annie, what they were going to do when they got to Lexington, and how he was going to apologize to Alex. He dreaded that conversation.

"There," Annie said, leaning her head to the left, "In the passing lane in a black sedan. I think I've seen it behind us since we left the city."

Bobby studied the situation for a moment, and then said, "Ah, what the hell." He lowered a panel to reveal a police radio in the Mercedes. He found the local channel, identified himself with his name and badge number and in a moment, there was further response.

"Detective Goren, how can we help you?"

"I have someone tailing me and I need a little help. I need a pass through. Tan Mercedes, New York plates 174 Nelson Marcus Patrick."

"You've got it, Detective, go ahead and kick it."

"Thanks, sir." Bobby said smiling, "I always wanted to know what this thing could really do. Baby, tighten your seat belt."

Bobby hit the ignition as if he were being chased by the Devil; who knows? Maybe he was. Annie smiled at the look of sheer joy on Bobby's face as he said, "Whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! Damn, this is fun!" Annie glanced over at the speedometer: 110 mph,

Annie just shrank down in the sheet and closed her eyes. She couldn't bear to see Bobby whip in and out between the cars as he passed them. She pretended she was on a rollercoaster and soon the ride would be over.

Bobby drove 20 minutes at that speed; there was no way that guy could be behind them now. If he were to speed, he'd get pulled over, and considering what was probably in that car, that wouldn't be a good idea.

Bobby slowed down to 5 miles over the speed limit. Annie sighed, "Thank God. I thought I was going to die."

He reached over and patted her leg. "Sorry Baby. It was just the first thing I could think of."

Annie wrinkled her nose. "Did you learn how to do that in the police academy?"

"Nope. Military."

"Well, hopefully we've put enough distance between him and us he can't catch up. And hopefully we have time to stop and pee?"

"What is it with women and having to pee? Jeez, it's like every five minutes."

"You're lucky I didn't piss on the seat a few minute ago." Annie laughed.

"Okay," Bobby said, "Next exit we'll pull over for a few minutes."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

EARLIER THAT DAY…

Ricky Stanton stood in Goren's apartment, leaning over the shoulder of a long-haired, bearded man who was working frantically over a laptop. Breaking into the place was easy; when you were a cop for years, you learn it all.

"Come on man," Stanton said, "how hard can this be?"

"Gimme a minute." Unfortunately, Goren was one of those who completely deleted his history after each session on his computer. So finding the last thing he viewed was a bit tougher. Bypassing his password had taken forever (come to find out it was "Sherlock2"), and now that he was actually in, it was going to take a while.

Minutes later, the man looked back at the pacing Stanton and said, "Bingo!"

Stanton came over and looked at the screen. He took out his phone, dialed and began, "Yes, I'm going to need to book a first-class ticket on your next available flight to Lexington, Kentucky. My name? Harvey Turner. Yes, it's a return trip; let's do three days from now. I have some business that shouldn't take that long. Thank you.

The two left the apartment, and got into a waiting sedan. From the back seat, Stanton said to the driver, "The kid needs to go back to work and I need to get to the airport." He reached in his pocket and slipped the long-haired man $2,000. "Remember, keep your mouth shut." The long-haired man nodded, unable to take his eyes off the money. In a flash, they were on their way.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"POLICE! OPEN THE DOOR! NOW!" The SWAT crew leader shouted outside Stanton's door. When there was no response, the crew knocked the door down as if it were a piece of cardboard. The men started going through the apartment, checking carefully the closets, cabinets, etc. where Stanton might be. The thing is, they not only didn't find Stanton, they didn't find any of his men, any of his money, any guns, or any of his drugs. One of the SWAT crew members radioed the captain: "Captain, he's not here; it's like he just up and disappeared. No money, no drugs, no lackeys, no Stanton."

"Christ!" the Captain turned to two squad cars on his left. "Go to Goren's place, just in case. " He turned to two squad cars on his right. "You go to Eames place, make sure it's safe; then one of you follows her home and stakes out the place just in case. Oh," he turns to the squad cars on the left. "After you give Goren's place the all-clear, follow Trudy Willman back here and do a stakeout. I want two armed guards at her door."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

While the car filled with gas at the convenience store, Annie said, "You sure you don't have to go?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Bobby said, "but I want a king-sized Snickers and a diet Coke."

Annie laughed. "Do the calories balance out?" she said, kissing his lower lip.

"Yeah," Bobby grinned, "or you can burn them off for me later."

"Yay." She turned and went inside the convenience store.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Bobby got out his phone and called Eames.

"Bobby." Eames answered after barely one ring.

"Hey you," Bobby said softly, not sure where to start.

"Are you two okay?"

"We're fine. We had someone tailing us, but we were able to leave him in the dust. We're just stopping for a minute. Did you know the Mercedes can do 110?"

"Impressive."

"Listen, Alex—"

"You don't have to say anything, Bobby—"

"Yes I do. I am so sorry for the way I treated you when you came to my place. You didn't deserve that at all. You were just doing what a good detective and friend would do, and I let my emotions get in the way."

"Bobby, its okay…"

"No. I'll never talk to you like that again. And if you want another partner, I completely understand. "

"Why would I want another partner?" Alex said her eyes misting with tears, "you're the best, you know. And you always will be. Stay safe, okay?"

"Yeah, I think it's a good pick. I mean, who in the hell will ever think of Lexington, Kentucky?"


	19. Chapter 19

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 19

A Law & Order Fanfic

Note: All characters from Law & Order CI are the copyright of Dick Wolf; all others are of my imagination

WARNING: Contains explicit content; if it bothers you, DON'T READ IT.

Ricky Stanton's plane landed smoothly into the Lexington, Kentucky airport, also known as LEX. He grabbed his carry-on and made his way out of first-class quickly and discreetly. He grabbed a cup of coffee and a sandwich at the nearest food stand and got to work. He dialed information for the central police station, dialed and asked to speak to the captain.

"Captain Rogers speaking."

"Rogers, this is Captain McCrae from NYPD. We've arrived a little bit ahead of Goren and the lady, and we'd like to go ahead and canvass where they will be staying so we can make sure we have it covered. You wanna give me that address?"

"Yeah. It's a condo. 5742 Parkside Drive. If you have trouble finding it, just call back. "

"Rogers," Stanton said with an evil grin, "I'm a cop. I'll find it. Thanks."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bobby and Annie were in southern Ohio, just about to hit Cincinnati, and making good time. They were playing oldies on the radio and singing along, and Annie would kiss Bobby's neck every now and again.

"Easy girl," Bobby said, "You're going to give me a problem we don't have time to solve right now."

"I'm sorry," she said, pouting her lower lip which made it worse, "You're just so pretty."

"Oh yeah, I'm a real blossom," Bobby said, rolling his eyes.

"You are. You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen."

"I'm older than you."

"Not by much."

"I'm going gray."

"Salt and pepper, and everyone knows salt and pepper adds flavor," she said, leaning over and giving him a nibble on the earlobe.

"Baby, you're making me go in the other lane."

Annie sighed. "Okay. Sorry." I think I'll take a nap." She took Bobby's jacket, balled it up and put it in the corner of the seat and the window. Then she changed her mind and put it on the headrest, leaned the seat back and stretched out. She fell asleep quickly, her hands folded on her stomach.

Bobby kept driving, sneaking a glance at sleeping Annie every once in a while, at her hair, her mouth, her breasts moving unrestrained under his John Lennon shirt, her legs. Damn, Bobby thought, they were NEVER going to get to Lexington.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Stanton, with the help of a GPS, found the condo relatively easily. It was in an upper-middle-class part of Lexington from what he could tell, quiet and well-maintained. The condo was white stucco with terra cotta accents. Stanton had parked his rental car a few blocks away at a 24 hour mega supermarket behind the building. He rounded the building and went to the back door. Getting in was easy; it was a simple tumbler lock system, nothing Stanton hadn't seen before. He opened the back door and went inside. The kitchen was your standard white-tile white appliance kitchen, already stocked with food. He took an apple from the fruit bowl and devoured it; the sandwich he had earlier was long gone. He looked the place over carefully to see where would be the best place to hide. If he was in a spare room then he wouldn't have the advantage, if he was in the master bedroom closet, they would find him when they put their clothes away. Then it hit him—there was a huge linen/utility closet in the hallway, right next to the master bedroom. There were mops, brooms, a vacuum cleaner, a hot water heater, and all kinds of things to hide behind. He would stay there until the time was right.

He took a piss in the toilet, then found an empty jar, in case he had to go while he waited, and he put that inside his hiding place. He also put a couple of towels down, too. He sat in the doorway and listened until they arrived.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Annie, honey wake up; we're in Lexington," Bobby touched her on the leg, "We have to call the cops and find out where our safe house is."

She raised up, raised the seat up, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Wow. How long have I been asleep?"

"A while. Now wake up sleeping beauty."

Bobby pulled over and got removed his cell phone from the charger. He dialed information for the number of the police, called and asked for the captain.

"Captain Rogers, here."

"Captain, this is Detective Goren. My friend and I have arrived in Lexington and we need the address of the safe house."

"You haven't talked to your captain?"

"No sir, I haven't bothered to call anyone back in New York yet."

"Oh. Well, get in touch with him soon. The address is 5742 Parkside Drive. It's a condo. I think you'll be very comfortable. Keys are under the third stepping stone."

"Sir, after all this driving, a cardboard box would be comfortable."

"Call us if you need us, or have your captain call."

Bobby mused over that statement. Why would his captain in New York need to call?

"Thank you sir." He hung up.

"Okay, Baby; 5742 Parkside Drive. Let's go."

It was only a five-minute drive to the condo. Bobby took off his shades as he sat in the driveway. "'Nice."

Annie whistled. "Nicer than my place, that's for sure."

Come on, my Lady, let's go check it out." Bobby grabbed the bags, Annie got the keys, and they went inside.

It had a sort of southwest design, odd for Kentucky, but it did go along with the Fiesta Ranchera theme of the condo development. Truthfully, neither one cared what it looked like at this point. Bobby went to the refrigerator and got a bottle of wine and found two glasses and a corkscrew. Annie collapsed on the couch, and Bobby plopped down next to her, opening the wine and pouring two glasses.

"Here's to being off the road and safe," Bobby said, "and here's to you, my love."

They kissed, savoring the taste of the wine on each other's lips. The glasses were soon empty and filled again, as they drank in between kisses. Bobby reached over slowly and gently cupped one of Annie's breasts.

"Let's go upstairs," Bobby whispered.

"Bring the bottle," Annie breathed.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Stanton heard the front door click and the sound of Goren and Annie coming in the front door. He slipped into the closet, silently closed the door, and crawled into his hiding place. They would have to clean up after the long trip, and that's when he would get them. He smiled—it was just too easy.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Annie and Bobby quickly found the master bedroom. They shed their clothes as they walked to the bed. Even though they were exhausted from the trip, they made love urgently, frantically, as if they were starved for each other. Bobby took Annie's hands and held them up over her head, kissing her neck, licking and sucking her nipples. She was usually more vocal, but this time she whimpered, her need for him being so overwhelming. He kissed lower until he reached her mons, kissing and moving toward her clitoris. Again, she was only able to whimper and moan softly, muttering an occasional, "yes," or "Oh God." She was so needful of his body and his love that it made her almost submissive.

Bobby licked until he brought her to the brink of organism, then moved back up her body. "No, Bobby, no," she cried softly. He moved up on his knees and put his cock into her mouth, moaning at the soft warmth enveloping him. He held her hair as she sucked, and he muttered, "oh yeah baby, God you are so good."

When he was almost ready to come, he pulled out of her mouth, turned so that she was on top, and had her face so that she had her back to him. She spread her legs and let him enter her, riding back and forth as he held her by the waist and squeezed her ass.

Bobby cried, "Oh GOD, Annie!" as she moved faster and faster. She cried out as she came and Bobby came just a bit later, erupting inside her. She laid back on Bobby's chest and caught her breath. Bobby wrapped his arms around Annie, kissing the top of her head. "I love you, Baby."

"I love you too. Now, let's shower and pass out."

"Sounds good. You wanna go first ?"

"Yeah, honey. I'll be right back."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Stanton could hear Goren and Annie, HIS Annie, fucking through the wall. God damn it, they better enjoy it, because it's the last time they're ever gonna fuck anybody ever. It's the last time they're ever gonna breathe ever.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . ..

Annie padded into the large bathroom to take a shower. There were no towels out; she hoped they had good towels in the linen closet. She opened the door and searched for the light. In a split second, she felt a hand around her mouth, and the feel of cold metal at her neck, which chilled her to the bone. Then came a voice from behind her that turned her blood to ice:

"Hello, Annie. Long time no see. Nice to see you haven't lost your figure." He ground his pelvis up against her buttocks. "Too bad you have to die first, or I'd fuck your brains out. Now, we're going to turn on the shower, so your boyfriend thinks all is well. Come on."

Stanton turned on the shower. "Now, let's go out and visit Loverboy."

.


	20. Chapter 20

Two Broken Toys—Chapter 20

A Law & Order CI Fanfic

Note: All Characters of Law & Order CI are the copyright of Dick Wolf; all others are of my imagination.

Goren's captain called the station in Lexington to garner more information about the safe house, mainly the phone number so he and Goren could keep in touch. He dialed and asked for the captain in charge.

"Captain Rogers here."

"Captain Rogers, this is Captain Hannah from the NYPD. I'm calling to hear if you heard from Goren."

"Hasn't he talked to you? He said he would meet you at the safe house."

"Damn it, Rogers, I'm still in New York! What have you done?"

"Nothing I can't fix!" Rogers said. "I'm on my way over there!"

Rogers called for patrolmen and headed for the safe house.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Play it cool," Stanton said, his voice as low as a breeze, "or I'll gut him like a pig and make you watch."

Annie could feel the prick of the knife on her skin, piercing and cold. Once when she was a little girl, she had cut her finger with one of her mama's chef knives; at first she didn't even feel it, the blade was so sharp. She prayed that was the case here.

"Now," Stanton whispered, "we're going into the hallway. Call his name like nothing's wrong."

Annie swallowed, and it made her neck scrape against the blade. Stanton moved her slowly down the hall, but not yet in sight of the master bedroom.

"Bobby?" she called out as sweetly as she could, only a slight quiver in her voice. "You should just rest; forget about the shower."

"Oh no; no one should have to sleep with me like this—"

At that moment, Annie and Stanton appeared in the doorway, his one arm around her waist, the other hand holding the knife to her jugular vein across on the left side of her neck. When Stanton spoke, it was like pure ice.

"Hello, Goren; we finally meet face to face."

"STANTON!" Bobby cried. "Let her go, you son of a bitch!"

"Oh no," Stanton whispered, moving the knife until he just barely grazed her right cheek with it. A thin ribbon of blood appeared and Stanton leaned over and licked it off. "She's quite a piece of ass, isn't she, Goren? You'd never know she was raised so prim and proper, the way she loves to fuck." He moved the blade back to her neck.

Bobby slowly tried to make a move toward his bag.

"Do it and I'll cut her ear-to-ear; she'll bleed out in minutes."

Bobby stepped back and shakily said, "Okay, okay Stanton; you've made your point. Now, let her go and take me instead."

"What? You mean kill you instead? My good fellow, I plan on killing you both. I just want you to watch her die. So delicious of a revenge, don't you think?" He smiled sardonically.

Suddenly, there was a rustle at the front and back doors. "POLICE! Detective Goren! Is everything all right?"

Stanton whispered, "One word and she's gone."

In an instant the police busted in the front and back doors of the place and began trouncing through the house. Stanton knew he had to act fast. He took the knife and made a clean slice on the side of Annie's neck.

"NO!" Bobby cried, and just as he was going after him, a patrol officer fired a clean shot between Stanton's eyes. In an instant he was gone.

Bobby leaned down beside Annie, "Baby, it's gonna be okay." She was bleeding profusely from the neck, causing a lake of red on the carpet. Bobby screamed, "We need a bus!" He leaned forward and tried to soothe her.

"Bag…" Annie gurgled. "Get…my…bag."

The EMTs arrived, did emergency service on Annie, and loaded her onto the ambulance. Bobby put on some pants and his John Lennon t-shirt, grabbing Annie's bag like she asked.

The ambulance drive to the hospital took forever. Bobby rocked back and forth, holding Annie's hand. She slipped in and out of consciousness, still bleeding copiously. It had been a long time since Bobby, a lapsed altar boy, had prayed, but his head and heart were swirling with prayer as they rode to the hospital.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

They rushed Annie right into surgery, leaving Bobby staining in the lobby like an abandoned puppy. It didn't take much of the Goren persuasion to convince the desk nurse that the paperwork could wait.

Bobby walked the floors for a while, but his adrenalin had dissipated and his emotions had overtaken him. He occupied himself by looking at the things in Annie's bag. He knew it was personal, but he needed to be around something personal of hers right now, or he was going to go insane.

Suddenly, everything had sentimental value—the red silk wallet he had bought her in Chinatown, her hairbrush with the few beautiful strands of auburn clinging to the teeth. He opened her lipstick and looked at it, opened her perfume and smelled it, found a post-it note that had "Bobby Goren" and his phone number on it, and smiled, remembering the day he gave it to her. He found the ever-present cellophane wrapped peppermints she was so fond of, and put one in his mouth, remembering the taste of her kiss. And in the bottom, she found a small envelope with "Bobby" printed in her perfect print. He opened it up to find a card:

On the front it had a drawing Annie had made of a box with a bow. It read, "I'm making you a present…"

Bobby opened it up and on the inside it read, "The problem is, it's not ready yet." Next to that was a perfect caricature of Annie standing in profile, naked, with a little tiny bow-wrapped baby rattle inside her belly.

For the first time in his adult life, Bobby Goren wept like a baby. He wept for his mother, he wept for his brother Frank, he wept for the woman he loved he may never hold and kiss again, and he wept for the little hand that may never grasp his finger.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

About an hour later, the doctor finally came out of surgery. "Mr. Goren?"

Bobby jumped up from his seat. "Yes doctor, how is she?"

"Sir, I'm sorry, but if you had any plans for that young lady to leave Lexington for a while, you might as well cancel them. Seems she's going to have to stay with us for a while."

Bobby asked quietly, "and the baby?"

"The baby will be fine, just as long as you don't rush getting her home."

Bobby had heard of laughing and crying at the same time, but had never experienced it before, until now. "When can I see her?"

"Right now, if you want to. But only for a few minutes; she's very weak."

A nurse led Bobby into a recovery room. Annie lay on her back, very groggy and drowsy. Her eyes slowly moved toward Bobby and smiled. "Hey you," she whispered.

Bobby came up and took her hand, brushing her hair back from her face. "You really had me scared for a minute there. Okay, more than a minute."

"What did the doctor say about the baby?"

"The doctor said the baby was fine. Wait a minute, how did you know I would know?"

"Because you're a nosy Rosie."

Bobby laughed. "You're right; I am. I love you."

Annie said, "Mmmmm…love you too. These are some good drugs."

"Yeah, well, find out what kind they are. We'll need them in the delivery room." Bobby walked outside the hospital into the night air. He dialed Eames.

"Bobby! How's Annie?"

"She's going to be okay, but we'll have to stay here for a while. The injury was pretty severe. I almost lost her, Alex, "Bobby's voice shook a little.

"I'm so glad she's going to be okay," Eames said, eyes misting with tears.

Bobby's smile could be heard through the phone. "I have some news. I'm gonna be a dad."

"Oh my God! Bobby! That's amazing! Congratulations." She held the phone out and yelled, "Guys! Annie's okay and Goren's going to be a dad!" A rush of cheers filled the phone. Goren laughed.

"Tell 'em thanks. Hey Eames?"

"Yes?"

"I don't know when I'll be back. I'm taking my leave time to take care of Annie, and I'm thinking about a transfer down here."

"Really?"

"Yeah, around here somewhere. It's beautiful, and I don't want to raise a kid in the City."

"I can definitely understand that," Eames said sympathetically.

"So, come down and visit sometime, okay?"

"You bet," Eames said, tear running down her cheek.

"You're my best friend, Alex. I love you."

"You're my best friend too, Bobby. I love you too."

They both hung up, prepared for a new start.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

EPILOGUE—18 MONTHS LATER

Bobby Goren sat on the patio of his Louisville home, soaking in the sunshine and some iced tea. Annie and Bobby had decided Lexington was too close to the near-tragedy to live, so Bobby put in for a transfer to the nearby city. They couldn't believe the difference in housing costs; they were able to get a beautiful house for less than their rent payments combined. The house had a large lawn with big trees and a large porch with a swing. Bobby looked back at the house and saw Annie sitting with her legs bent, with Frannie propped up against her thighs, tickling her belly. They had named her Frances Elizabeth, after both their moms, and called her Frannie.

"Where are my girls?" Bobby shouted toward the house. In a moment, out came Annie and Frannie (which made Bobby laugh—he had "matching girls") came out to him. "Come here," he said, taking Annie by the waist and pulling her into his lap. The baby giggled as she plopped down with Annie on Bobby's lap. Her face shone with glee when she saw her daddy, and she broke into a big toothless grin.

"How's my big girl? Did you sleep well? Have you heard about that thing in the Middle East?" The baby's look became solemn, as if she were pondering the last question, then decided her daddy was being silly and gave him that grin again. He brought her up to his face and she gave him one of those big, juicy, open-mouth baby kisses that melt your heart.

Annie leaned forward and gave the baby neck-kisses, then kissed Bobby's neck. "I love you."

"Mmmm…love you too. I love both my girls." Bobby ran his hand lightly over the scar on Annie's neck. When he thought back to that terrible time and it made him shiver. But then he thought about all it had taken to get where he was—and he was grateful for where he was. He smiled as he put out his pinky and a tiny little hand grasped it with all her might.


End file.
